


In Another Life, My Love

by ann2who, morphia



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Ancient Rome, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Boners, Awkward Kissing, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Minor Character Death, Oblivious Tony Stark, Pining, Post-Avengers (2012), Steve Rogers Feels, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-12 17:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7115158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ann2who/pseuds/ann2who, https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphia/pseuds/morphia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Centuries ago, Stephanus was sworn to protect the city of Rome. His life was unforgiving; as a warrior, he didn’t have the time to form a close relationship, and he surely couldn’t fall in love. Senator Antonius challenged everything he knew, worming into his heart before Stephanus realized how painful love could be... especially when ripped away.</p><p>In the present, Steve has a problem. The Avengers have just started to function as a team, and after their latest mission, strange visions stir long-dormant memories he can’t dismiss as dreams. Visions of Tony, visions of them. And since Tony doesn't remember what once might have been, Steve knows he must do everything to keep his newfound feelings a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prepare For Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Steve: morphia  
> Tony: ann2who  
> Visions in italics: teamwork ;-)
> 
> This fiction is already finished and will have 5 chapters. We’ll post regularly. Enjoy!

**Steve**

The creature they were fighting looked, for lack of a better description, like a huge predator plant that had both teeth and a trap, and _vines_. One of those was sweeping at Steve just as he landed from a successful toss of his shield. Luckily, Hawkeye had managed to put an explosive arrow in it before it could tackle him.

"Thanks, Hawkeye," Steve said into the comm and rushed on towards the mass of thicker vines loosely wrapped around the base as Hawkeye saluted from the top of a tree across the street. Iron Man was circling up above, hopefully scanning the creature for weak spots, while Bruce stayed behind in the Quinjet, analyzing the data. For the time being, Steve didn't think they needed the Hulk to step in, finding more value in the professor doing some research. "Any news, Dr. Banner?"

"It's definitely a plant, Cap," Bruce supplied. "Fire might work."

**Tony**

"Fire? Really, Brucie? Elemental weakness?" Tony chimed in as he lasered off one of the creature's vines, leaving it wiggling on the ground. This thing really was all over the place, with its weird vine-tentacle-arms. Tony chuckled. “There you have it. Maybe it’s a Bellsprout.”

"That chart is based on _actual_ weaknesses," Bruce answered, exasperated. "Do we have any idea what it's looking for?"

“I don’t know. Pesticides, fertilizers… a shady place in the garden?”

“Very funny,” Bruce said, and while he tried to sound serious, Tony was almost certain there was at least a tiny smile on his face now.

Whatever the giant green thing was, it seemed to be growing, its main body was now almost filling out the whole street. Tony hovered above, and the only thing he could really do for now was shoot at a vine here and there and stop it from causing any more harm than it already had.

Seeing how this was only about their fifth real mission after officially becoming a team, things were looking pretty well coordinated, Tony thought. Steve, as always, was fighting at the front like a good little soldier, with the wonder-twins as back-up. He and Thor kept the skies in check, and Bruce, since he wasn’t jumping around and smashing things, gave clever tips via the comm-line.

It was classic, it was simple, it had Steve’s tactical style written all over, but Tony had to admit that it worked out pretty well. They weren’t the bestest of buddies, aside from him and Bruce maybe, but they certainly clicked on the battlefield.

**Steve**

"When I said I would join your team," Thor said from his position, hovering over the mouth of the creature, "I had imagined we would be fighting your Hydra, and searching for my brother's scepter..."

"I am aware of that, Thor, but this threat is here now. Do you see anything from up there?" Steve asked, hoping to deter the demi-god's displeasure with the situation. None of them was too happy with it as it was.

"It emits a ghastly smell," Thor said, then pulled up higher.

"Anything else?" Steve asked just as he reached one of the less mobile vines. It looked like the creature's activity had changed somehow. It had drawn all its vines back, wrapping them around its base. Steve sent a glance up to where Tony and Thor were hovering up above.

"Be careful, Captain. The thing is priming," Thor cautioned, and before Steve could so much as answer, the creature popped a bulb out of its gruesomely rimmed bell-shaped body, which landed just a short distance from him and exploded on impact with the ground, immersing the air with… What was it? Pollen?

"What the—" Steve started asking, then shook his head. The dust spread quickly and engulfed a small section of the ground, reaching to where Clint and Natasha stood. Natasha was closer, alternating zapping the creature with her stingers and shooting it with her pistols, while Clint was a little ways behind her now, firing arrow after arrow, hoping one of them would work. Steve could tell the two were getting a good whiff of the stuff. He himself was completely immersed in it.

There was no physical effect he could feel yet, but that didn't mean they should take that chance. "Retreat!"

**Tony**

“Retreat?” Tony echoed, looking down on the ground. “Why retreat?”

But he didn’t really need an answer to that. When he spotted Steve running away from a giant alien-bulb in the middle of the street, Tony already saw the thick dust spreading all over the place.

“Ah,” he commented, trying not to sound too alarmed, then fired-up his boot thrusters and raced towards the ground. His scanners confirmed that Romanov and Barton had likely inhaled the stuff as well, but by now, they were already on safe grounds, so what he did next was a no-brainer.

The little surprised grunt Steve made whenever Tony picked him off the ground bridal-style would never cease to be amusing, that was for sure. Nor was that look of half disbelief and half gratitude on the guy’s face when he’d realized Tony might have just saved his life.

“Off to the decontamination shower, Cap,” Tony said. JARVIS had already rerouted air circulation within the suit, so it was safe to pull Steve a little closer to his chest so they could actually talk. And with ‘talking’, he meant making sex-pollen jokes.

However, the giant Daisy below picked up that moment to basically blow up like a balloon, and Tony had about two seconds of envisioning a horrible explosion right in the middle of Manhattan, before the plant-monster simply deflated, and died.

**Steve**

"Thanks, Iron Man," Steve said, finding a more comfortable position to settle in the metal arms. He wished Tony had deigned to notify him before he scooped him up like this, but it beat having to stick around and breathe any more of whatever that had been.

"Thor, make sure Black Widow and Hawkeye are looked after and brought in quickly, will you?" Steve said into the comm, only getting a confirming hum.

Was Thor actually upset about this mission? Steve decided to ask him about it later, and then returned his attention to his own situation. He glanced to the golden Iron Man helmet and then lowered his head a little. "You got any idea what that stuff was?" Or what that creature was, for that matter.

**Tony**

A snort left Tony’s lips before he could even help himself. “Nope, no idea,” he answered, “you feeling anything yet? Headache, nausea, sudden tightness in your pants?”

They raced across the city, and Tony was mindful to keep Steve in a somewhat comfortable position as he headed towards Stark—no—Avengers Tower. He had to tease Steve a little, but he also felt worry eat at him. Breathing in weird and potentially lethal toxins from outer space, that was bound to have consequences. And he really had to get Steve, and Romanov, and Barton into those decontamination showers as soon as possible.

JARVIS was flashing him a notification that everything was already prepared and Tony forwarded it to all of his teammates: _Quinjet on Southeast corner of Lexington Avenue and 61st Street. Decontamination ready... so chop chop, people._

Next to that, his news feed was running a mile a second, and yes, it seemed #giantalienplant was most definitely dead.

**Steve**

Confused, and a little mortified, Steve stared at Tony. "What are you talking about?"

Because he honestly had no idea how inhaling anything could possibly relate to the state of his pants and what was in them. It was also a little rude to ask, Steve thought, but decided not to give Tony the satisfaction by complaining about it. All he wanted was to get this stuff off, get the debrief about this inexplicable mission out of the way and then have some time for himself to reflect on this bizarre mission on his own. He was more than a little wary of spending any length of time with the others, especially Tony, who would probably never let him live down the bridal carry after this.

**Tony**

Tony laughed. Steve was a precious human being sometimes, he really was. “What, sex-pollen not made it to your ‘to-read list’, yet? It’s a thing. You should google it. Probably with parental control on, though let’s be clear: I’m not volunteering.”

The tower now loomed in the distance and Tony touched down on the roof’s landing pad a few seconds later.

**Steve**

"Whatever you say, Tony."

Sometimes Steve just had to accept that the things coming out of Tony's mouth made no sense. This was one of those cases. To the best of Steve's knowledge, there was no such thing as sex-pollen, and even if there were, he could personally say that the plant they'd been fighting did not have that.

However, the jab about parental control was the point where Steve finally flushed with indignation. Did Tony really think he'd never been exposed to pornography before?

Well, it didn’t matter, anyway. He preferred things as they were, with Tony being none the wiser. If they actually talked about it, Tony would start asking questions, and Steve really didn't have the patience to deal with Tony's perceptions of him.

Standing on his own two feet at last, Steve turned to Tony and simply patted him on the shoulder. "Thanks."

**Tony**

“My pleasure,” Tony replied, and smiled, though of course Steve couldn’t see it. He made JARVIS do a quick scan of Steve’s body and was relieved when it came up clear. No anomalies, at least not yet. “You sure you don’t feel anything funny? Any pain, weird urges?”

He grimaced, and immediately waved a hand in a placating gesture. “And no, that wasn’t another sex joke, just… you alright? Seemed you got a full dose of that stuff.”

**Steve**

Shifting his weight a little to get an idea of his general condition, Steve didn’t feel any ill effects from the pollen. Absolutely none. He frowned, thinking that it was a bit strange. At the very least he should have some minor irritation in his airways, shouldn’t he?

"I got a good few lungfuls, don't think it did anything, though." He looked at his hands, pulled up one shoulder, then the other. Nothing felt out of the ordinary. "I think I'm good, but I'll go get the decontaminator going. Don't wanna take any chances." Indicating with his head, Steve then turned to do exactly that.

**Tony**

“Good, yes,” Tony said, following him towards the landing pad’s emergency-elevator that went straight down to Medical. He probably should put the suit through decontamination as well, Tony figured, and had JARVIS prepare everything inside the shop.

Bruce was informed about how that fight on Upper East Side had gone down, and he’d already sent Tony a short note that he’d taken some samples of the plant, so they could actually get a look at it soon, see what the sudden attack had been about. The plant had just… appeared. From seemingly out of nowhere. And instead of actually doing what their usual villains-of-the-week did, it had just… stayed where it was, and only started to get aggressive when the Avengers had tried to lure it out of the busy streets.

Well, and then the pollen—dust—toxic waste—whatever.

Tony sighed as he watched Steve step into the elevator. He leaned against its door for a moment and waved a hand. “Bruce and I will start working on one of the bulbs it threw on the street, so… when you’re done, meet me down at my workshop.”

**Steve**

Steve gave a brief nod of the head as Tony spoke, letting go of the door to allow it to slide shut, and that was when it hit him. It felt like a punch to the chest. He staggered back against the wall of the elevator, but sensation was changing, and he soon couldn't tell where he was anymore.

Meet me down at my workshop _, Antonius had said. So with his luggage packed and everything he needed on his person, Stephanus set out to find him at the domus. He was early, but he'd told Antonius he would be, so he didn't worry about it much._

_All the way over, he kept his eyes open and looked in all directions, but the streets were relatively empty, and the moonlight was the only illumination offered to him as he approached the large house. A pang of discomfort gripped him at the solemn sight of the domus._

_Hurrying into the house, Stephanus set out to find Antonius in the workshop, but the place seemed deserted. He was starting to worry, when a noise called his attention. A loud clatter, then noises._

_"Antony!" Stephanus called, rushing for Antonius' private rooms. He stopped dead in his steps at the entrance. The picture before him was impossible to grasp. Then a loud_ ding _resounded in his head and_ —

All at once, everything came back into focus—the sights and sounds of the hallucination all but gone. The elevator’s door had opened, that’s where the sound had come from. Steve shook his head, pulling himself from the wall and panting heavily. What had just happened? A massive pain settled between his temples, and he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he stumbled out of the elevator.

He didn't know how long the doors had been standing open, and didn't bother to check as he hurried for the showers.

 

* * *

 

**Tony**

Just a few dozen feet away from Tony, in the living room, the whole gang was drowsing on the huge couch area. Thor was lounging in one of the big arm chairs, laughing heartily at whatever they were watching. Tony couldn’t see Steve’s face from where he was sitting on one of the couches, his back was to him. But he could tell by the slant of his head that he was sleepy, his attention only vaguely focused on the television.

Clint was leaning against the arm of the other sofa, his feet propped on the edge of the coffee table. Beside him, Natasha just wrote something down into some magazine. Her eyes, however, were drawn to the television and staring raptly at what looked a lot like a Monty Python movie.

Tony felt a mixture of surprise and betrayal. The first because Steve-”There’s only one God, Ma’am”-Rogers was apparently sitting through the entire movie, and the second because they were watching Monty Python without him in the first place.

“That’s nice,” Bruce said to Tony as he stepped out of the elevator. He was looking at their teammates, too, a small smile on his face. “Strange, but nice.”

Tony hummed in what might be agreement, and walked further into the room. “I see no one has grown any new body parts,” he announced as he flopped down on the couch next to Steve. “Or burst into flames or something, so we should count that as a win.”

**Steve**

The movie didn't really catch Steve's attention. He'd been thinking about the hallucination he'd had earlier, and was contemplating telling the others, but for the time being he decided not to, and just let their hangout continue as usual. When Tony came into the living room, however, he straightened up and turned to look at him and Bruce.

"If that were the effect of the thing, we would've been in trouble by now," Steve said. He watched Tony take a seat beside him, even as Bruce stood back, and then asked the next, obvious question. "Any results on the tests, Dr. Banner?"

"Tests came back clean, but we're still waiting for some final results," Bruce answered with a shrug. "Whatever it was, you metabolized it already. It left no detectable residue in your system."

"That's a relief," Steve said, turning to look at Natasha and Hawkeye in turn. "Have you guys had any side effects since the fight?" And if he was hoping to hear them agree, that they had gone through similar hallucinations, he wasn't going to tell anyone. Both agents shook their heads, however, which was disappointing, but also good news.

"It did seem familiar, Captain," said Thor, scratching his beard absently. "I cannot say where from."

**Tony**

“You’ve seen it before?” Bruce asked. He was still standing, his hands twisted in front of his chest awkwardly as if he still wasn’t wholly sure he was welcome. Which was stupid. And something he really needed to be put off of asap.

Tony moved a tiny bit closer to Steve and patted the now free space next to him, rolling his eyes when Bruce gave him an insecure look.

“Asgardian?” Bruce prompted, as soon as he’d sat down.

“No,” Thor replied, and while he seemed to be tempted to glance back to the television every once in a while, his expression had turned serious. “I might have seen it during my quests in the Nine Realms. But there were no traces of the Bifrost opening a portal, or a rift of a different kind, so I am uncertain why it appeared in your city.”

“Maybe it just wanted a little time-out,” Tony said, as he leaned back into the sofa’s backrest. Then, he clapped a hand on Steve’s knee. “Or it wanted to get up and personal with our good Captain. We’ve ruled out sex-pollen, by the way.”

“Jealous?” Natasha asked without once looking away from the television, but Tony could see a small yet scary smile tugging on her lips.

“Of Steve? Sure. I never got courted by an alien plant from outer space.” He looked at Steve, grinning brightly. “That something you’d recommend?”

**Steve**

Tony was very close. Steve couldn't recall a time they were this close before. It wasn't… bad, but it was making it a little difficult to concentrate on the conversation. He knew that Tony was joking at his expense to some extent, but somehow it didn't sting as much as his previous jabs had. The hand on his knee was warm, and Steve had to force himself to ignore it for the sake of answering. God, he hasn't been this close to anyone since the war.

"Can't say that it is," Steve answered a little stiffly. He wasn't pleased with the revisiting of the sex-pollen idea. It hadn't been particularly funny the first time around. "I just hope there's no long lasting effects. Thor, if you recall anything, let us know, okay?"

"As you say, Captain," Thor answered with a nod of his head, already glancing back to the TV.

**Tony**

“You seem stressed,” Tony said, his voice a bit toned down. The others were immersed in the movie again, with Thor’s laughter and Clint’s random snorts resounding in the room, but Tony could see that Steve wasn’t really into it. He had that look again, like his thoughts were locked up in a whole other lifetime, and while Tony couldn’t exactly relate, he did feel sympathy for the guy. Hard to imagine having lost everyone you ever knew, and a whole world as well, in the blink of an eye.

He leaned back, looking at Steve squarely when he glanced up. “You know I’m just teasing you, right?” he asked, even more quiet, although he wasn’t deluding himself. If Romanov wanted to know what he was saying, she would.

**Steve**

It was startling to find Tony looking at him with open honesty for once. He didn't know how to explain that it wasn't exactly stress, but rather a sense of foreboding that lingered from the hallucination he had yet to talk about with the team. Saying so might come off as unkind, or dismissive, and he didn't want to upset Tony.

With a small shrug, Steve smiled and shook his head. "I know, Tony. At first it… Well, that doesn't matter anymore." He glanced at the TV just in time to see a massive amount of policemen storming the grassland. This movie had been inexplicable from the get go, but the ending just seemed completely disconnected. "Thanks for clarifying that, though."

**Tony**

“Sure,” Tony replied, and yeah, he wasn’t buying any of that. But that was fine. If Steve wanted to keep on mourning and lamenting his lost life all on his own, then it wasn’t Tony’s place to do something about it. Whatever.

He had half a mind to just stand up and leave again, but one glance at Steve’s completely absent expression had him linger.

Oh, fuck it.

“I know you like keeping to yourself,” he started, swallowing down all those tons of innuendos forming on his lips. “And that’s fine, really, no judgement, big fan of doing the lonesome brooding. But if you want to, you know… hang out… or talk tactics or whatever it is you mid-twenties do these days, you can just come down to my shop.” He shrugged, and almost immediately felt stupid for even bringing this up. Steve didn’t like him, it had been clear on the Helicarrier, and it was still painfully clear now, a good few months later.

Tony heaved a low breath. “Just, you know, if you care for a little stress relief.”

**Steve**

The awkward touch in Tony's demeanour was endearing. It sounded nice, trying to spend some time together, outside of the battlefield. Maybe if he and Tony talked more, they could stop butting heads all the time.

As he was thinking up an answer that would sound both flattered, positive but not too enthusiastic, Tony spoke those last words, and a familiar sensation took over. _Stress relief?_ All the air escaped Steve’s lungs and he felt himself wavering, leaning back against the sofa in an attempt to ground himself, but soon enough the room disappeared, as well as Tony's face beside him.

_“Salve, Centurion,” said Senator Antonius. He was standing in front of the Curia Julia, looking a bit uncomfortable as he approached._

_Stephanus looked down at him, surprised. He only knew Senator Antonius superficially, since they were never introduced. He'd seen him take the stand at the Senate several times, during budget discussions. It was difficult not to hear about these people when living in the city, but this was the first time he actually talked to one._

_“Uhm…” Antonius continued after a long beat, the discomfort in his expression becoming more apparent, “do you care for a little stress relief?” After a pause, and a brief widening of his eyes, he seemed to have changed his mind and said: “I just mean—I have this great new bath. I built it so it could accommodate several people over seven feet plus. You can nearly swim in it.”_

_"Uh…" Stephanus uttered, and swore internally at the dumbfounded tone of his voice._

_Antonius had dark, sparkling eyes, dark hair, a lanky form and a silver tongue, if his debate appearances in the Senate were anything to go by. Stephanus had met enough politicians in the city to distrust them forever. He'd despised every last one of those lying, manipulative bastards. Right now, however, Antonius seemed pretty nervous, and Stephanus was at a loss of how to react to that kind of behavior._

_“I’m not sure I understand…”  he said, scanning the hallway behind them._

_“Oh, I know what you're thinking,” Antonius blurted, his eyes flickering towards the slanting roofs of the city. They were on the highest point of it, with the Curia Julia right behind them. The building was enormous, an imposing, brick-faced concrete with a huge buttress at each angle. “What does this fine looking Senator want with me? Isn't he married?” He grinned cheekily, but somehow it seemed fake. “The answer is that I was dying to find out if what the people say about you is true. Ever since you rode through that main gate, you have inspired a great deal of war stories. I couldn’t help myself, I wanted to get to know the hero myself.”_

_Stephanus considered this, and thought that inviting him to take a bath together was rather a peculiar way to go about it._

_“Up close,” Antonius added, then his eyes widened again, and he hurried to add: “In person, I mean. Face-to-face. And I assume your accommodations leave much to be desired, so I thought…” he trailed off, wincing slightly._

_Stephanus chuckled, couldn’t help it. This was… flirting. The senator was trying to flirt with him._

_A fact of life: He could lead a successful campaign and return victorious any day, and never even bat an eye at the crude language his soldiers used, but when it came to interpersonal interaction—_ very personal, _in this case—he got flustered. It hardly ever happened, and maybe that was the reason he had no idea how to handle it. He could feel heat creeping up his neck, but whether it was embarrassment or something else, he didn't know. He lowered his gaze before tilting his head to glance at the senator's eyes again._

_"Senator Antonius... " The direct approach, he decided on a whim, would be the best course of action here. "Are you propositioning me?"_

_“You noticed that, huh,” Antonius said, leaning back against the building’s wall. A group of senators passed them, exchanging nods respectfully. Stephanus recognized one of them as Senator Stanus, and he felt the man’s gaze lingering for a moment, before he passed them._

_Antonius, cocked his head to one side, and then bit his lower lip. Yes, he was definitely nervous. “Why? Would you reject me, if I was?”_

_Reject him? Straightening his back, Stephanus regarded the man in front of him. The question was not uncalled for, though in truth, he could think of no reason to reject him at all, aside for the fact that, as a Centurion, he didn't have much to offer to a Senator. And, as Antonius had mentioned, there was the matter of his marital status. Besides, he didn't even know the guy on a personal level. And yet, Stephanus knew that there would be benefits in accepting the offer. The guy had status, wealth, and was ridiculously attractive. It wasn’t wholly uncommon for soldiers like him to seek out Rome’s nobility, gain a benefactor. But…_

_"Why would you want me?" he returned instead of answering. "You are married, as you said and… I have nothing to my name."_ Yet _. Payday would come. That was… if he lived to complete his service._

_Antonius looked up at Stephanus, said: “I am married,” and turned around again to stand face-to-face with him. “In my defense, it was arranged. And while Virginia and I love each other dearly it’s not… in a way a man should love his wife, or a woman her husband, for that matter.” He stared up at Stephanus. “She and I, we have an arrangement, so if you’re not generally opposed to the idea of socializing with me, visit me at home sometime? I have a feeling that you and I have much to learn from each other.”_

_Something shone through, suddenly. Like Antonius had taken his act down a notch. He looked earnest, and serious, and Stephanus blinked slowly, savoring the sight. He guessed not many people got a glimpse of this. And when Antonius was done talking, he offered a slight smile._

_"You're probably the first person to have ever…" Stephanus made a slight gesture with his hand between them, meaning both the offered companionship, and the idea of more. Antonius may not have been very straightforward about it, but Stephanus could guess, given the kind of nervous energy that emanated from him, that there may be more to this offer. He shook his head, trying to ignore the blush he felt rising to his face despite his best efforts. "Being a soldier kind of takes away most of your options…" He offered a smile, and then nodded his head. "I'm not opposed to socializing. With you.” And the smile on his face felt easier, what with Antonius' expression showing tentative hope and approval._

And just as it had started, the hallucination was gone, and Steve was back in the Avengers Tower common room, with everyone where they had been sitting before, but at least half of the team was staring at him instead of the TV, and Steve, still panting, reeling from the experience, leaned forward, cupping his face in his hands.

What the hell were these things? Why Rome? Why _Tony_?

**Tony**

“Steve?” Tony said for the fourth time within the last minute, and his tone was getting more and more urgent. What was going on? One moment, Steve had opened his mouth to say something, and the next, he’d frozen on the spot. He’d stared into the distance, eyes wide, shaky breaths leaving his mouth.

And now, Steve was blinking, his head was tilted and his lips parted as if to speak—

But he didn’t.

He seemed numb with shock, and that didn’t exactly calm Tony’s mind. “Steve, are you okay?”

It had to be that alien plant. Whatever Steve had inhaled the day before, it was somehow playing tricks on him. Steve had been standing right next to that bulb when it exploded, of course he’d be the first to show signs of whatever that thing was doing with him.

“What’s going on?”

**Steve**

"I don't know," said Steve, managing to find his voice at last. The headache he'd felt the first time returned full force, and he shut his eyes tightly.

"Steve…" Natasha said, which prompted him to stagger to his feet and beat a hasty retreat.

"It's… it's fine," he said with a wave of his hand. "I have to… go."

When he finally made his way out of the communal space and into the elevator that would take him to his own floor, Steve pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, then rubbed his forehead slowly. Why was he hallucinating about Tony of all people? And why were they in ancient Roman clothing? What the hell was his brain doing?

"Get a grip, Rogers," he huffed to himself as he stepped onto his floor and headed directly to the bedroom.


	2. Keep My Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the lovely comments, it means a lot to us that you're enjoying it so far <3

 

**Tony**

Sometime close to late afternoon, the door to the workshop creaked open and the scent of coffee drifted in the air. Tony found himself jarred out of whatever perpetual reverie he’d been in. He turned to the door and was greeted with Bruce’s warm, sympathetic smile, feeling immediately grateful for the distraction.

Bruce extended the offered mug and sat down at the workstation next to Tony. He glanced down at the cell samples Tony had taken from the alien plant’s bulb, then reached for JARVIS’ examination protocol, sighing when he realized that there were no new results.

Tony took a sip from the coffee. It seemed like forever since he’d drank anything warm and he had forgotten how good felt. Taking a large gulp, only slightly wincing at the hot temperature, he cast Bruce another smile. “Thanks for that,” he said hoarsely, clearing his throat.

Bruce nodded. “No progress?”

“Nope,” Tony replied, popping the ‘p’. “MRI, blood tests, all clear.”

“Thought so. I didn’t find anything either.”

Tony sighed. “Go figure.”

“I think we should consider the fact that it didn’t leave any physical evidence,” Bruce said, his voice thoughtful. “Natasha and Clint said they don’t feel any pain, there’s no constrictions, no severe symptoms aside a bit of a headache. If you want my opinion, I think those visions they’re having might be temporary.”

Tony raised a brow at him, setting the cup down. “So you… want us to sit this out?”

Bruce raised his hands diplomatically, and only then Tony realized how harsh his voice must’ve sounded. “What choice do we have?” he asked. “If Thor doesn’t find out where the plant came from or what its vapor does… I don’t really know what we _could_ do.”

Bruce had a point, Tony _knew_ that. But he hated having a problem on his hands and not being able to do anything about it.

Steve had looked so _haunted_ , so shocked and lost. Hard to believe it was already two days ago since he’d last seen him in the living room. Ever since he’d had that… flashback, hallucination, or vision, or whatever, he’d holed himself up in the gym or his own floor, not even coming down for dinner anymore.

So logically, whatever he’d seen must’ve hit very close to home.

Immersed in his thoughts once more, Tony had almost forgotten about Bruce’s presence, until he placed a warm hand on his knee and jarred him back to the present. “Did Steve talk to you?” he asked.

“No,” Tony replied. “Not even after Natasha told him she and Clint were having flashbacks, too.”

“Might be worse for him,” Bruce mused, scratching his chin. “Maybe he’s seeing things from his old life.”

“I _know_.” Tony sighed deeply, as he leaned forward, reaching for one of his screwdrivers, absently turning it around between his fingers. Of course he’d thought about that. Seeing Peggy again, or that friend of his, or maybe even his parents, it was bound to leave him hurting. “Just wish he wouldn’t try to deal with it on his own.”

Bruce hummed, and when Tony looked up, he seemed to be slightly amused.

“What,” Tony said, immediately defensive.

“You care about him,” Bruce replied, grinning when Tony huffed. “No, you _do_. That’s good. I always thought if you two can get your act together, maybe we all can.”

A bitter chuckle rumbled through Tony’s lips. “Right. We aren’t getting anything together. He obviously doesn’t like me. Not even enough to tell me what’s eating him.”

“He will. In his own time.” With that, Bruce clapped a hand on Tony’s shoulder, standing up. “I think it’s just… how he is. We all haven’t exactly been very open with each other since we moved in. Those things take time, it’s not unusual. Steve hasn’t talked to anyone, by the way. It’s not just you he’s avoiding. ”

“Thanks,” Tony murmured, realizing it didn’t really make him feel any better. He wouldn’t worry so much if Steve talked to _someone_. Ignoring his own thoughts, Tony stared down at the bulb again, as if looking at it long enough would unveil its secrets.

“Anytime,” Bruce replied, then the workshop doors closed behind him.

Tony’s finger trailed some artless patterns on the protocols in front of him. _Flashbacks into personal past with time span of two weeks to eight months, temporary migraine preceding and following the flashbacks. Time span might correlate with dosage of plant’s pollen._

And if that last one was the case, Steve sure had gotten the lion’s share.

**Steve**

The gym wasn't helping. Painting wasn't helping. Even jogging didn't get him tired enough to forget about the visions. They were just so surreal…

On one hand, Natasha had told him about her own visions and Clint's, but what they were seeing had actually _happened_. Steve’s visions… not so much. He was sure he would've remembered wearing full centurion gear, and he would've _definitely_ remembered seeing Tony in a freaking senator gettup.

He wondered why he hadn't gotten any visions since that second one. It hadn't escaped his notice that it was something Tony had said that had triggered it the first two times. And if he were honest, that was part of the reason he was keeping his distance, but it was bothering him. He couldn't even concentrate on things he usually did on autopilot. Thoughts of Tony would creep up on him. How close he'd sat that evening, how he'd held Steve in his arms when he’d taken him back to the Tower…

Steve set down his pen and rubbed his forehead. It was obvious avoiding the issue wouldn't do him any good. Sooner or later, he'd have to face Tony, and the rest of the team. He couldn't keep hiding. But what would he tell him? _Hi Tony, I just saw you in a toga. It really suits you_. Ugh. No thank you.

"JARVIS,"

"Yes, Captain?"

"Is Tony in…"

"Mr. Stark is in his workshop, as always. Do you require anything from him?"

"No—" Steve hurried to answer, then, hesitating, he lowered his gaze to the desk in front of him. "I'll go there myself."

"Very well. Shall I inform him of your arrival?" JARVIS' tone was bland enough that Steve couldn't really read if he was satisfied or not. He reminded himself next that it was an AI, a program. It wouldn't have emotions, would it?

"No, it’s… fine," Steve answered, getting to his feet and leaving everything behind him as it was. He would get back to it later, he decided, and headed for the elevator.

Entering the workshop, Steve spotted Tony at his workstation, as was the norm for the guy. It was a relief to see him unchanged, and definitely not wearing any ancient Roman clothes. That would've driven Steve to complete insanity.

Tony's posture was hunched, and he seemed absorbed in whatever it was he was doing. Steve considered the sight of him in a tank top. The guy was attractive, he thought, then shook his head firmly at himself. He _knew_ Tony was good looking, it wasn’t if he’d been blind before, but now it felt like there was a second, foreign pair of eyes looking at Tony. Eyes that didn’t belong to him but to some… skewed, imaginary version of himself. And Steve had no idea what to make of that.

Pushing back that thought, Steve took a few more steps into the shop. "Busy as always, huh?" he spoke up, making his presence known.

**Tony**

The screwdriver slipped through Tony’s fingers and fell down on the workshop table, clanking loudly. He glanced over his shoulders, not even bothering to school his surprise when he saw Steve standing just a few steps behind the sliding door. He looked a bit out of place there, his arms drawn tight to his body, shoulders set in a tense line.

He could only remember Steve being down two… maybe three times. Basically whenever Tony had to do test runs on his newest uniform. Otherwise, Steve simply didn’t come down to the shop.

For a moment, Tony’s eyes flickered down to his tattered jeans and the grease-stained tank top, then back to Steve’s perfectly groomed attire, and for some weird reason, he felt a surge of bashfulness go through him.

That… was definitely not like him. Why care what Steve thought of him anyway? Bracing himself, Tony turned around fully and cast Steve an easy smile. “Jup,” he answered. “You know me, give me something to rack my brains over and I’m one happy person.”

**Steve**

"I could come back later…" Steve offered, watching Tony watching him. It felt strange to be here, in this space that seemed to be entirely Tony. He was such an integral part of this place, Steve thought. All of this wouldn't exist without him, would it?

Should he tell him about the visions? No, probably not a good time. He didn't feel he knew enough about them, yet. Not enough to bring it up and discuss it at length, but what if Tony had some intel from Natasha and Clint that Steve wasn't aware of? He'd been avoiding pretty much everyone over the past couple of days. For all he knew, there was an absolutely logical reason why the others had gotten visions of real memories, and Steve got something… else.

**Tony**

“No,” Tony blurted, pushing himself off of his chair.

He’d been waiting to get some answers from Steve for two whole days, he wasn’t going to let him get away now. “I’m good, not too busy. I was actually hoping you’d come down here sometime, I was a bit worried after your last flashback, I… uh, Natasha talked to you, right?”

**Steve**

"She messaged me…" Steve said, frowning. _Flashbacks,_ huh? Steve figured it made sense they would call it that. Natasha’s and Clint's visions had been that, right? "There was no reason to be worried. I just… It was a bit of a shock," he said on a slightly embarrassed huff of a chuckle. "Did you reach any conclusions from their reports?"

**Tony**

“Not all that much,” Tony admitted. He scratched the back of his neck, looking around. Steve was still just… standing there. And Tony was standing in front of his desk and… it was awkward, wasn’t it? Why was it so awkward all of a sudden? Their… not-quite-friendship had been tense sometime, but they’d never been uncomfortable around each other.

Vaguely, Tony waved in the direction of his large couch in the middle of the room. “Have a seat? Can I… I don’t know, you want something to drink? I have… energy drinks, mostly. DUM-E’s smoothies are wicked, so I wouldn’t recommend that unless you’re up for a treat and… there might be a granola bar somewhere if you’re hungry.”

And that was verbal diarrhoea right there. Great.

**Steve**

Steve nodded his head the first statement, and waited for Tony to do something, or say something. It felt a little like a stalemate, a waiting game, but luckily it was Tony who broke it. Steve went to the couch and sat down, relieved to not be directly questioned about his own visions, yet.

"Got any water?" he asked in a half amused tone as he watched Tony approaching and… Steve’s eyes once more dropped to his ragged workshop clothes, and the grease on his arms… and his chest with that round blue light fixed in it… and his neck... Tony’s neck had the sort of elegant curve that, as in artist, Steve could only call beautiful.

He abruptly tore his gaze away. What the hell was he thinking?!

**Tony**

“Water!” Tony echoed, and yes, he was almost sure there were a few water bottles in his fridge. Pepper had at some point added it to the shopping list and—jup, there it was. “Coming right up,” he called over and followed Steve to the couch.

Handing him the bottle, he sat down, and maybe he was overdoing the ‘keeping your distance’ thing, but the last time he’d sat too close to Steve hadn’t exactly worked out too well. If the guy didn’t want him near, that was fine, he could deal.

“So, uhm, Clint and Natasha said they were having brief visions of their past, like… memories, just more vivid. They wrote them down, the farthest they went back in time was eight months so far. That was Nat, and we analyzed that she was slightly nearer to the bulb when it exploded than Clint, and his flashbacks only have a range from a few days ago to four months top. It’s random scenes, apparently, and we don’t know what triggers them. And…” He cringed a little, looking at Steve apologetically. “...we don’t know how to stop it. Thor left for Asgard yesterday, to do some research on that plant.”

**Steve**

Accepting the water, Steve forced himself to ignore the pointed distance Tony had put between them. It only made sense he would be wary of Steve's reactions after last time, wasn't it? He tried to tell himself it didn't sting.

"Okay," he said, thoughtful.

So Thor had left for Asgard, that was sort of a relief, considering that the guy usually bore solutions with him when he returned from his excursions. He could wait until Thor came back with an answer, provided his visions remained more or less the same. "And uh… did," Steve paused, thinking of how to put it in a way that wouldn't bring up any suspicions on Tony's side. Sadly, there was no way to do that, and Steve still had to ask. "Did they report any visions about things that… that never happened?"

**Tony**

“Things that never happened?” Tony echoed and frowned at Steve. “I don’t… no, I don’t think so. Clint gave Bruce a few examples, and he said it was mostly sequences that had some… ‘emotional value’ to him? But it was all something of his more recent past, so…” It took him a moment before the meaning behind Steve’s words truly sunk in. And with that, his behaviour of the last days was suddenly put in its proper context.

“That’s what’s happening to you?” he asked, and didn’t try to hide his worry. “The dose of that alien-plant-vapor you breathed in must’ve been thirty to forty times higher than for the other two, you were bound to react differently.”

**Steve**

"Yeah…" Steve scratched the back of his neck absently. "That's not much of a relief. If it's affecting me differently, who knows what else might happen?" He leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. "It… It felt so real…"

He could recall the exact sense of urgent dread from the first one, when he’d walked into that large, fine looking house. There had been the idea that something terrible could happen at any moment… And then there was that second, much more elaborate vision. It had _felt_ like he was right there, in ancient Rome, talking to a senator who somehow looked exactly like Tony but seemed… maybe more approachable.

When he opened his eyes again to look at Tony, and saw the worried look he gave him, Steve could do nothing but shrug helplessly.

**Tony**

Tony regarded Steve, his brows furrowed in deep thought. Steve looked so anxious, and he knew whatever he’d seen had really pushed him off his feet.

“You, I don’t know, want to talk about it?” he asked, and he knew it sounded cliché, and the offer was stupid for so many reasons, because this was _them_ , this was Steve and Tony, and they didn’t do heart to hearts. “I mean, Bruce and I will keep looking, but it’ll probably take a while longer so… Maybe you shouldn’t keep it to yourself. It doesn’t have to be me, obviously…” Tony waved at himself and cast Steve a knowing smile.

**Steve**

Considering the offer, Steve watched him. It was sincere, he realized. Tony was reaching out to him, and something about it—his expressions, the tilt of the head, the bashfulness—struck him as familiar, but he couldn't point out how or why. So, dismissing that thought for later consideration, he shook his head.

"I want to, don't get me wrong, but it's just…" His eyes fell a little lower than Tony's face, and he stared unseeing as he spoke. "I just need some time to… understand what I saw, I guess?" Finally, he looked away entirely, letting a small smile rise to his face. "I appreciate the offer, though. Might take you up on it later."

**Tony**

That wasn’t a ‘No’ Tony figured and leaned back with a sigh. If it wasn’t flashbacks from his past, not memories of what he lost in all those years in the ice, then it had to be something equally unsettling. But Steve didn’t want to share, and that was fine. They didn’t owe each other anything.

“Alright,” Tony said, smiling at Steve warmly. The guy looked as shaken as Tony had ever seen him, and he knew this wasn’t the time to sulk like a prima donna just because Steve didn’t want to share his feelings. He clapped a friendly hand on his shoulders, lingering for a second, before he let go again. “Offer stands, and you know where to find me.”

With that, he stood up and walked back to the workdesk. Stretching his back, then his arms, he sat back down. Bruce was right, there was no sense in looking at Nat’s and Clint’s data any longer. He glanced over to the bulb, which was safely stored away in a contamination dome. It was still in fairly good shape, though the leaves’ edges were starting to wither. Maybe if they understood its cell structure, they’d get a hint on how to stop those hallucinations from driving his teammates insane.

**Steve**

Tony's hand was warm, and the touch was like a shock to Steve's system. It had never felt this way when Tony touched him in the past, but now… He glanced over at the guy, who was still smiling at him with a kind of understanding on his face that Steve hadn't expected from him.

And then Tony withdrew his hand and pulled away, and Steve felt a tug in his chest, like something was wrong. This wasn't how it went, but... _of course_ that was how it went.

Steve watched him stretch, then looked away quickly. How long had he known Tony? Not so long, he reasoned, but this newfound fascination with him… that was…

It had to be the visions messing with his head, that was all.

"Thanks, Tony," he said, getting to his feet and marching towards the exit. Turning at the door, he glanced at the genius. "I…" What? What else did he have to say? An exasperated smile rose to his lips. "I'll be back… later, maybe. If that's alright with you?"

**Tony**

The softness in Steve’s voice surprised Tony, and he flashed him a smile over his shoulder. This was perhaps the most civil conversation they’d ever had, and it felt as if that thick fog of animosity that had been clouding each of their interactions after their initial meeting had finally lifted.

Steve was a nice guy, Tony could admit as much. Somehow less and simultaneously so much more than his father had made him out to be. He was a stubborn prick for sure, but there was so much good, too, and a mixture of bashfulness and a dry sort of humor that often had Tony laugh against his will.

So, yeah… maybe a friendship with Rogers wasn’t so far off as Tony had once thought it was.

“Sure. Mi casa es su casa,” he told Steve and waved a hand around at the workshop, then opened a holograph of the bulb’s scans JARVIS had made a day ago. Zooming in, he cautiously began to peel the artificial layers away. Only when the sliding doors closed half a minute later, he knew Steve had left, and felt himself slumping back into the chair’s back rest a little.

He’d never tell anyone how much he still felt like he should be standing or sitting a little bit straighter whenever Steve was around.

 

* * *

 

**Steve**

Tony's words had reverberated in Steve's mind for hours after he'd left the workshop. How they could be spending time together, talk a bit. Something had changed in the way he saw Tony, a minute shift in perception, Steve could admit as much to himself. He knew these visions had something to do with it, but… a part of him wondered if that mattered. Even if it was the visions, would that make the change any less real? Tony had opened up to him, had actually bothered to give their friendship a try, and in the great scheme of things, Steve figured a few skewed magical visions of them didn’t matter.

With a deep breath, Steve eyed the workshop door, shifting his weight on his feet as he considered his options. He had a plate with sandwiches in one hand and two bottles of beer in the other. Well, he already made it this far, right?

"Hi?" he called as the doors slid open, searching for Tony's form in the workshop.

**Tony**

Tony jolted upwards, almost hitting his head on one of the suit’s leg plates. He was lying on a creeper down on the floor on the far side of the workshop, his arms raised up and elbow deep in the newest Iron Man suit. Letting go of the cables he’d meant to link to the right foot, he looked up and dragged the goggles back on his hair.

“Oh hey,” Tony called back, waving a bit when Steve didn’t immediately spot him. With a confused frown to the clock hanging above the workshop’s glass front, Tony wondered how much time had passed since Steve had left earlier. Earlier—yesterday? It didn’t _feel_ like a whole day had gone by, but then again, it usually didn’t.

He sat up on the creeper, smiling when he noticed the food and drinks in Steve’s hands. That was… unexpected. And nice. And something that only Pepper and Rhodey did for him.

Well, and maybe Bruce, occasionally.

“Working on the bulb made me realize how much I hated the few Molecular Biology courses I took back in college. Had to get my hands on a bit of metal.” He grinned, and raised his hands, cringing when he noticed there was little skin visible through the layers of oil and grease.

**Steve**

"So that's what you're doing down there?" Steve asked on a smile of his own. He walked over to the workstation and deposited the food there before approaching the creeper, and the incomplete suit—a marvel he'd rarely had the chance to see anywhere but with Tony in it. "I thought you'd be at the station," he said, indicating towards it with his head. _Like you were last time,_ he didn't say.

Tony looked… he looked wrecked. His hair was tousled, his skin stained with grease and who knows what else. The clothes he was wearing—the same ones as yesterday, which raised Steve's suspicion a little—were stained as well, and had pinhole burns across the front, exposing tiny bits of skin that Steve definitely did not want to see more of.

**Tony**

“Yeah, well, you know how it is. Can’t watch kitten videos on YouTube all the time,” Tony joked then heaved his old man’s body up. For some reason, he suddenly worried that this was yet another pop culture reference Steve wouldn’t get, but his mouth had quirked upwards so Tony figured it was okay.

As soon as he stood right next to Steve, Tony was keenly aware of how clean Steve looked. Perfectly groomed, a white shirt with no creases whatsoever, and grey sweats. And that inevitably reminded him of how he probably looked after a two-day shift in the shop, so…

Backing away a little, Tony pulled his goggles off and, because it was the obvious choice, put them over the suit’s helmet. “That’s nice,” he said, pointing a finger towards the bottles of beer and to what actually looked like homemade sandwiches. “I’m just gonna wash up real quick, okay?”

With that, he turned around and—gracefully—walked to the bathroom nearby. When he scrubbed himself down with a sponge, at least three minutes dedicating to his hands only, he realized how weirdly excited he was to have Steve around. Shaking his head at his mirror’s image—and yeah, there wasn’t anything to be done about his hair now—he threw the sponge into the sink and walked back to the workshop.

**Steve**

Waiting patiently by Tony's workstation, Steve stood, a little unsure what he could touch, so he went with 'nothing', for the time being. And when Tony exited the bathroom, he smiled at him.

"So, did you get to sleep at all since we last talked?" he asked, handing over one of the bottles as soon as Tony came close enough, taking the other for himself. He’d cleaned up nicely, though Steve certainly had liked the dirty and rugged look on him, too, and— _right_ , he was doing that thing again where he thought about Tony's looks.

Damn it.

Glancing at the bottle in his hands, he reminded himself that there was nothing between him and Tony, nothing more than a very tentative, very fragile friendship. That had to be good enough.

**Tony**

_Not even sure_ when _we last talked,_ Tony thought to himself. He vaguely remembered JARVIS asking him to take a break sometime this afternoon, and now that he actually took one, he did begin to feel a bit tired.

“I’ll grab a few z’s soon,” he said, figuring a ‘No’ would only have Steve furrow his eyebrows in disapproval. He took a long gulp from the beer, closing his eyes for a moment because it was cool and one of the nicer sorts they had in stock upstairs, then pointed the bottle towards the new suit. “The bulb’s layers gave me an idea for a problem I had with the new suit casing, and things kinda went out of hand from there. I tend to zone out sometimes, just means I have to sleep a bit longer later, it’s no big.”

He didn’t want to come across too greedy, but the sandwiches were _right there_ , looking delicious, and he was suddenly hungry as hell, so he cast Steve another smile and reached for one, taking a bite, and then another.

**Steve**

Steve sipped from the beer, and glanced at the armor. As always, it looked magnificent. He could never really get over how amazing it was that Tony could create such wonders with his own two hands. True genius had always impressed him, even when he and Tony hadn’t gotten along in the beginning.

When he glanced back at Tony, Steve saw him already halfway through the first sandwich, and it made him smile. So that had been a good idea. "So long as you get to sleep at some point," he said, then turned his attention back to the suit. It was difficult to see all the details from where he was standing, but he wasn't sure if it was off limits to come any closer.

**Tony**

Tony hummed in agreement, swallowing down the food, then clearing his throat. “That’s one delicious sandwich, Rogers,” he said and took another bite for emphasis, before putting the plate down on the small work table behind him.

He noticed how Steve kept glancing back to the suit, and smiled to himself. One of the legs was still missing and the chest plate wasn’t snapped into place yet, but otherwise, Mark forty-three was mostly finished. And he knew it looked impressive. It was, by far, the most powerful thing he’d come up with, and the first with a built-in arc reactor, just in case.

“You can look, you know,” he said. “It won’t bite.”

**Steve**

"Yeah?" Steve asked, taking it for what it was—a permission to get closer. He set down the bottle and sent another small smile at Tony before approaching the suit, which hung a short distance from them. He rounded it once, taking in the smooth edges and the seamless transitions between materials.

"It's amazing," he said, getting a little light headed, like he was having a deja vu, and the next words out of his mouth came as though from another world.

“The detail work is…”

_"…phenomenal," said Stephanus, rising to his feet and approaching one of the pillars. They'd been carved to look like palm trees, and he let himself admire them for a second. Even after a week, he was still seeing new intricacies in Antonius' domus. "How do you even come up with these ideas?"_

_He turned to look at Antonius, who was still draped over the side of the large divan, in between dozens of silken cushions, and looking rather pleased with himself. Stephanus had the feeling his appreciative glances were not unwelcome, so he let them linger, taking in the sight of Antonius in the dim light._

_The whole evening, they'd been lounging in the atrium, looking towards the peristylum, where many flowers were already prospering in the small shady garden.The walls surrounding them were made of red stone with white speckles. Lighting came from the flickering candles, which shed a warm, yellow hue. There were mosaics, banners, arms and tapestries decorating the atrium. The luxuries sometimes made Stephanus dizzy, but he liked discovering them all the same._

_Leaning against the rough pillar he'd approached, Stephanus felt the smile tugging up at the corners of his lips. To think he could've been spending all this time at the rather boring barracks and not knowing that there were domus designed so richly, that there was food as meticulously prepared as the kind Antonius had insisted they share every evening, and that there were other ways to spend one's time than practicing and patrolling and keeping his soldiers in check… well. But Antonius had invited him in and shared all of his wealth with him. And while Stephanus_ had _taken that invitation, it was not for the food, or the luxuries, or the wonderful architecture he got to see._

_No, it was all for Antonius._

_Brilliant Antonius, with his quick wit and his endless well of information. It was hard to believe he was the same guy as the one who easily put down any opposition at the Senate with firm and often harsh words. But here… now… he was gentle, and open, and patient. It was most prominent when Stephanus told him about his campaigns and his tactics, and the kind of moves he practiced. Whenever that happened, Antonius' eyes would fixate on him, like his thoughts were the most interesting thing he'd ever heard. Just thinking about it made Stephanus' face warm with affection._

_“Well,” Antonius said, leaning back further, a small, content smile rising to his lips. “I learned quite early in life to surround myself with beautiful things,” he told Stephanus, his voice very soft, as his eyes trailed over his features. Stephanus was wearing only a tunic tonight, fine-woven linen, and a small corselet of leather armor, which was normal for his off duty time. When Antonius looked at him like that, however, he felt exposed. “And I believe beauty often lies in the most unexpected contrasts.”_

_Pushing himself off the stone pillar, Stephanus stepped back towards Antonius, taking his time in settling beside him and turning so he could face him properly. "That is a very peculiar aesthetic sense, Senator," he teased. "Is that why you approached me?" Unawares, he leaned closer, drawn to Antonius and not inclined to fight that feeling at all._

_One of Antonius' hands wandered to Stephanus’ thigh, resting there above the fine clothing._

_It was going to happen. Antonius was going to kiss him, and Stephanus wanted it to happen so badly. In fact, he'd wanted this to happen sooner—there were so many little instances where it could've, over the past week, but it felt perfect now._

_“It was one of many reasons,” he whispered, and the hand on Stephanus’ thigh moved upwards, settling on his shoulder instead. He leaned in slowly, before he sealed the space between them._

_The air between them was just right, with the candles' golden light accenting Antonius' face and the kind of warmth that shone in his eyes reached deep into Stephanus' core. He pressed in, closer, familiarizing himself with the softness of Antonius' lips, the ticklish sensation of his well kept facial hair, the pleasant sweetness of his breath. His own hands moved up, fingers circling Antonius' arms in a grasp that did nothing to pull him close, nor push him away._

_When the kiss broke, briefly, Stephanus pulled back just enough so he could look into Antonius' eyes properly. He was unsure what to say, so he just gave the slightest nod of the head, and then leaned in for another taste._

_A wide smile took hold of Antonius’ lips, and Stephanus was smiling, too, and it was making their kiss thoroughly awkward. Antonius ran his fingertips delicately along the planes of Stephanus’ face, down the length of his neck, and across his collarbones, making Stephanus’ breath shudder._

_“You’re something else, Centurion,” Antonius whispered when he drew back a bit, and Stephanus couldn’t remember ever wanting another person the way he wanted Antonius._

**Tony**

It took Tony a moment to realize Steve had zoned out on him. Those last words he had said had been a bit slurred, and then Steve’s gaze had become all absent and empty, and yeah, Tony should’ve realized what was happening immediately.

“Steve?” he prompted gently, but Steve didn’t move at all from where he’d been glancing over at Tony. It was, well it was scary as hell, to be honest. Last time he’d been too confused to really grasp what was happening, but now he had it on full display and—What would he do if Steve didn’t snap out of it again?

He really needed to get Steve to write down when and where those visions were happening to him. Natasha and Clint had at least given them some pointers to what their triggers could potentially be. With Steve, who acted like if he didn’t keep those visions a secret something horrible would happen, it was like skipping through a goddamn minefield.

“Please be okay,” Tony breathed, the worry spreading through his body like fire, and _shit_ —how long had it been already? A full minute at the very least. He should be calling for help, have Bruce come down here, or maybe Natasha, he should—

Steve was moving again, and at first Tony thought he was coming back to himself, but _that_ thought flew out of the window like a rocket when Steve leaned in even further, a hand settling on Tony’s hip to keep him steady. And then his lips were pressed against Tony’s mouth and that was just…

_Huh_.

**Steve**

In the wake of the vision, there was a kind warmth in Steve’s chest, like things were finally as they should be. The kiss lingered, and it felt like coming home. The soft lips against his own were so familiar, so right. He could continue kissing Antonius forever.

It lasted all of a moment, until he realized he was _still_ kissing someone, and that someone had to be Tony.

Steve jerked back all at once, eyes wide with shock, and there it was, the splitting headache. On the same motion, his hand came up to cup his forehead. "Ugh…" he groaned, unable to keep himself in check. "I'm… I'm sorry… I don't know why I did that… I just… It's…" He avoided Tony's gaze vehemently. "I'm sorry."

**Tony**

“Uh,” Tony said eloquently, then shook his head to clear it. _That_ he hadn’t expected. And clearly, Steve hadn’t either. Tony screwed his eyes shut, trying to come up with a way to handle this.

Steve was already apologizing and Tony was still busy fighting the incredibly bad impulse to dive in for seconds. Steve had _kissed_ him. But he hadn’t wanted to, and that meant this wasn’t the time to swoon, or to wonder how Steve’s mouth would feel against his when he was really into it and—

Okay, a deep breath. Steve was as straight as they come, and he was from the 20s, and was likely freaking out right now and Tony really needed to do this the grown-up way.

“It’s okay,” he said, casting Steve a reassuring smile. “You were out of it, flashback, and it’s me, so it’s not the first time someone just planted one on me. Don’t sweat it.”

**Steve**

Steve shook his head, despite the pain. He managed a brief glance at Tony, but then the aftertaste of the vision reminded him of the softness of Tony's lips and the utter surprise on his face and he had to look away again. "Not helping," he heard himself say in response. The idea that other people could've kissed Tony, or done anything else with him made an unreasonable rage flare in his chest. Unreasonable and completely uncalled for.

He swallowed down anything more he had to say and strode towards the nearest exit, needing to be somewhere quiet and far away from Tony _right now_.

**Tony**

“Hey—hey, wait,” Tony called after him and he stumbled a little in his attempt to reach for Steve’s arm. The guy really was fast when he wanted to be. He was barely able to reach for his wrist before Steve had walked through the door.

When Steve stopped, even though he didn’t turn around, Tony let go again. Skin contact probably wouldn’t do any good right now. His expression seemed pained, from what Tony was seeing of his face, and he would be offering him a couple of Advils or something, but it wouldn’t do Steve and his super-metabolism any good, anyway.

“I’m—I’m really sorry that happened, okay?” Tony said, releasing a heavy breath. “I know—kissing a guy and all, _awkward_. But I really won’t hold it against you, alright? Or tell anyone. Besides, we both know it could’ve been anyone, so it’s not a… problem, right? And… look, Steve, these flashbacks keep coming and you really should tell me what’s triggering them so we can avoid that. Please?”

**Steve**

It took considerable effort to keep himself from shaking in his spot. The headache was ever present, and Steve really needed the distance, but Tony was still _right there_ , asking questions Steve didn't want to answer, saying things Steve found ridiculous and unrelated. Steve shook his head again.

"It could _not_ have been anyone else, Tony. It's only you." He took a shaky breath and let it out slowly. "The triggers, the visions… it’s _always_ you."

Steve gritted his teeth. The moment of silence lingered, and he thought he might've said too much already, so with the slightest glance at Tony, he took himself out of the workshop and as far away from Tony he could get while not leaving the tower.

 


	3. Open Your Heart

**Tony**

It took half a week before Thor  _ bifrosted  _ himself back to Earth and right into the Avengers’ living room. There was a huge smile on his face, and Tony didn’t think he’d ever been happier to see those beefy arms than in the moment Thor gave him a weird-looking thumbs-up.

Because things were… tense, to put it mildly. The flashbacks kept coming and one look at Bruce’s reports made it very clear that their frequency was increasing. By now, Natasha and Clint had them up to two or three times a day, and they took longer, too. In the beginning, a flashback had lasted about half a minute. Clint’s last one—back into the 90s, apparently—had taken about three point five minutes.

And Steve… well, Tony had no fucking clue how it was for Steve because the guy was still avoiding him like the pest.

When he had run out of the workshop three days ago, Tony had just stood there, frozen in place. 

_ It couldn't have been anyone else. It's only you. _

Tony had tried to wrap his head around Steve’s words, but he came up empty for what felt like an eternity. A war of emotions had surged within him, each battling for superiority.

_ Well, that’s a kick _ , was the first reasonable thought that came to mind, followed by:  _ So he  _ did _ think about kissing me when he actually kissed me. _

It was—What was he supposed to think about that? Steve’s flashbacks weren’t something that had actually happened to him, it was something he’d been forced to see. So while Tony’s first emotion had been a mixture of disbelief and amusement, it was followed closely by shame.

He really shouldn’t read too much into this, because in the long run, it didn’t mean anything. Aside from it probably torpedoing their almost-friendship. But that wasn’t something Tony had in control so… 

If Steve wanted to stay away from him until this was over, then so be it. Tony didn’t try to seek him out and demand answers about what he was seeing exactly, although, to be clear, the curiosity was eating him alive.

_ Patience, thy name is not Tony. _

So naturally, when Thor had announced that he knew what the plant was, why it had been here, and how to deal with the flashbacks, Tony had jumped on that like a duck on a june bug.

He’d called for a debriefing, not just because Fury had demanded to get updates on the whole situation, but because it was likely the only way to get Steve into a room with him.

And here they were, all sitting at one of those ridiculous round tables in SHIELD Headquarters, and of course Steve was sitting on the whole other side, pointedly looking at Thor while the God explained what had happened in the last weeks.

“So the Vanir use the plant to make a tincture that helps them… recall lost memories,” Bruce summed up with a scratch of his forehead, and Tony had no idea if that’s what Thor had meant by ‘Remembrance Potions’ and ‘Dwelling into the Past’ and ‘Mind Wandering’ and whatnot, but at least, it sounded like a solid conclusion.

“Yes, Doctor,” Thor confirmed on a smile, obviously pleased. “The Oufros Alder is a traditional medicine in Vanaheim. My good Hogun once gave me a potion so I would remember one of my father’s lessons. If he had caught me not having paid attention, it would not have ended well.”

Clint, who was sitting next to Tony, leaned forward. “But it depends on the dosage, right? Steve’s flashbacks are different than ours because he was standing right next to that… bulb?”

“Aye!” Thor confirmed again. “There are tales of how far back the Oufros Pollen can take your mind. Hogun once confided that his second cousin had consumed such a large amount of it that she had been able to see herself in a time that preceded her life by ten thousand years.” He smiled, as he eventually sat down at the table. “Of course there is no way to say if that was the truth. But I know it can take you far back into your past. Decades, even centuries.”

At that, Tony’s eyes snapped back to Steve, who’s eyes were looking into the far distance, as if he wasn’t even listening to Thor. The gears in Tony’s head were running a mile wide, and now he had to know what Steve was seeing.

He  _ had  _ to.

**Steve**

Every muscle in Steve's back and shoulders was tense. From the moment he'd entered the debriefing room, he'd been wary of visions. They were more frequent now, and even though he tried to keep his distance from Tony, whenever they happened to interact, he would get one. 

And the visions… they were something. 

All in all, they were variations of what he could only describe as snap-shots of a completely head-over-heels couple: walks through dark gardens, stolen kisses in the night, fond conversations about military force and city maintenance. The common denominator was Tony and Steve. It was always the two of them. Of course, in the visions they called each other Antony and Stephan, but the point remained. And it was grating on Steve's nerves.

It didn't help that a kind of longing had settled in him like an old friend. A longing to get closer to Tony, to be something for him that he knew Tony wasn't interested in. And even if he were interested… 

It was pointless to think about it, anyway. These visions weren't real. He and Tony had nothing in common and that wouldn't change. And he really only wanted the debrief to end so he could find out if there was a solution or if he was doomed to suffer forever.

"Captain," Fury said, drawing Steve's attention out of his deep thoughts. He was staring at him with an unblinking eye. "Would you kindly share your flashbacks with the rest of the class? I’m still waiting for a full report." His words dripped sarcasm. 

"I don't see why I should," Steve answered, his back straight and his posture challenging. There would be nothing more mortifying than sharing these visions with the rest of the team. They'd never let him live it down, and that would be a sore spot he really didn't need anyone pressing on.

"It’s relevant information to fixing this condition,” Fury said. “We all know you took a dose that is several times what Barton and Romanov inhaled. And you've heard Thor, the antidote will take time to acquire. It would be best if the team knew how to avoid triggering your flashbacks. How's that headache of yours doing, by the way?" 

"My headache is just fine, director, " Steve said, not without a touch of bitterness. "You can keep that sympathy to yourself."

"Steve…" Natasha said with a warning undertone, leaning forward.

**Tony**

“Come on,” Tony said, raising a hand in Natasha’s direction to stop her. “Leave him be. He doesn’t want to share, that’s fine.”  _ It is not, _ a small voice inside Tony’s head screamed because if what Thor was hinting at was true—he needed to know, dammit.

Reminding himself firmly that this wasn’t about him, he added: “Bruce and I did the math, the flashbacks’ frequency won’t increase by much within the next week, so it’s not like he’s in real danger.”

Clint huffed, staring at him with a scowl. “The headaches are goddamn awful. For Steve more so than for us. You were there when he had them,  _ every single time _ . Are you seriously just shrugging this off?”

_ I’m trying to do him a favor, asshat _ , Tony thought, and slumped back into the chair, draping a hand across his eyes. “I’m just saying it’s his choice.”

“Hogun never told me about pains,” Thor said with a worried tone in his voice. “The Vanirs do mix the Oufros Pollen with a few other plants to balance its impact. I would have to ask him if we can somehow lessen the pain, but I would think the director is right, Steven. It is best to avoid the Oufros’ visions altogether until my friends have found all ingredients for the mixture. You stood right beside its bulb, I can only imagine how far into your past you are seeing, my friend. Maybe your third of fourth past life. It must be very unsettling.”

**Steve**

There was a beat of silence. Everyone in the room had stopped whatever they had been doing and instead were now staring at Thor with open mouths.

Past… life?

That was beyond the realm of science fiction and straight into lunacy, Steve thought. It just couldn't possibly be true.

"You want me to avoid triggers," he said flatly, letting his gaze fall on each team member in turn, except for Tony. He looked at him, last. "I'll avoid triggers." His jaw set, he got to his feet and took a few steps towards the door.

"My visions are of ancient Rome, and they don’t have any relevance to the antidote. That's all I'm going to say on the matter." 

**Tony**

Ancient… Rome. Tony’s eyebrows must’ve reached Mount Everest’ heights because what the ever loving fuck—Was Steve serious? He stared at the man’s back for a long, incredulous moment, and he felt like laughing out of sheer frustration and disbelief because he  _ hated  _ not knowing what Steve was seeing.

“When you say ‘past life’…” Bruce prompted and if Natasha hadn't been in the way he would’ve kissed the guy for asking. “You actually mean reincarnation?”

Thor’s brows furrowed as he glanced at Bruce, then a small helpless smile rose to his lips as he looked around the room. When he was met with what was likely a bunch of confused stares, he rubbed a hand across his chin. “It is a common belief in Asgard, and in many societies within the Nine Realms. Your ‘science’ has not discovered its origins, yet?”

“‘Our science’ he says,” Tony echoed and couldn’t help himself anymore. A small chuckle left his lips and he slumped further into the chair. This was crazy, completely off-the-chart-unbelievable and the worst thing was, a part of him really wanted it to be true. 

Because if it was, then… what Steve was seeing might be glimpses into  _ their  _ former lives.

Both of them.  _ Together _ .

When Clint gave the back of his head a little slap, Tony just laughed harder. Only when he dug a finger right against his rib cage, he stilled and glanced up at him with a firm glare. “You have  _ got  _ to stop poking me all the time.”

**Steve**

Later, he would scold himself for this. He knew he should've left when the questioning started making him uncomfortable, but now it was too late. Steve had a moment to inwardly shake his head at the marvelous and completely bonkers idea that reincarnation was a real thing, and then Tony opened his mouth.

Of course, he’d say just the thing to send Steve spiraling back into a place where nothing made sense, and he could barely even feel the floor meeting his knees by the time he lost touch with reality again.

_ The almost painful heat of the water was slowly ebbing to a pleasant warmth. In his deep, drowsy state, Antonius didn't respond to the occasional brush of lips and even Stephanus' hands wandering over his body didn’t rouse him. That was, until Stephanus pressed a pointed finger right into his rib cage. _

_ Gasping, Antonius pushed his hands against the the bulk of Stephanus' body, and gave an approximation of a scowl. “You have  _ got  _ to stop poking me all the time,” he declared. _

_ Behind them, the doors opened and two of Antonius’ servants carried vessels with steaming hot water inside. They nearly staggered under the weight, before they sat them down on the floor. After filling the bath with the new water, they bowed and left the room, closing the doors behind them. Antonius let his hands slide up through the water and settled them on the edges of the bath, turning himself around so he could look at Stephanus. “Anything you want to say in your defense?” _

_ Laughing shortly, Stephanus shifted closer, making the water around them slosh a little back and forth. He reached up then, running the backs of his wet fingers along Antonius' cheek. "You were falling asleep in the middle of our conversation. Again," he said, leaning in to kiss said wet cheek. "You were telling me about this motion you were promoting, remember? Seemed important, but if you prefer to sleep, perhaps we should move to the bed…" He let his hand rest on Antonius' lower stomach, fingers slowly drawing random shapes as he let himself enjoy the warmth of his body and the water around them. _

_ Antonius rubbed his eyes as he settled down on top of Stephanus’ lap. The closeness of their bodies was very nice. _

_ “Is it not boring you?” he asked, and smiled when Stephanus determinately shook his head. He genuinely wanted to know what Antonius was doing and what he was trying to achieve with his seat in the Senate. _

_ “Well, I told you how small Rome’s manufacturing economy is. They’re not properly funding the Empire’s workshops. The only thing they’re essentially paying for are constructing materials and—weapons. And it’s… frustrating, since we could so easily improve the city’s sanitation system, and the waste system, or the sewers. Can you believe how many people are still dying because they don’t have a decent water supply? Because their home makes them sick? There’s… this vote coming up, on next year’s budget. If I win, I’m allowed to fund my own projects, but…” His shoulders sagged. “Senator Stanus is pushing weapons production, and with the ongoing war, it’s going to be the more popular case for sure.” _

_ Stephanus' hands settled low on Antonius' back, just above the round, tempting ass. As a soldier, he knew the kind of funding the army needed. Even just paying the forces of the empire would take a lot of money. It made sense other senators would push for military funding, but Antonius' points were pretty solid.  _

_ "I've seen you take the stand, Antony. If anyone can make it happen, it's you." He cupped Antonius' face in his hands, smiling at him. "Now give me a kiss so I may distract you a while."  _

_ “Lucky you, I love distracting kisses,” Antonius replied, and pressed himself against Stephanus’ chest. He consumed Stephanus in a fierce, hungry kiss, his mouth loving him for all he was worth. His fingers tunneled through Stephanus' short hair, his teeth nipping at his lips. It was a deep, bruising kiss that made all of Stephanus' senses tingle in that moment. _

_ A tender smile was on his lips as soon as Antonius leaned back in his embrace. “I’ve fallen for you, Centurion,” he whispered and … whatever happened from here on out, this might just be the most perfect moment of Stephanus’ life, and no one could take it away from them. Antonius brushed a thumb across his lower lip, and gently pressed their foreheads together. “Stay with me?” _

_ Antonius spoke so sweetly, it made Stephanus ache for a closeness that was beyond any mortal's ability to achieve, so he hugged him tight against himself and gave a half nod. "Always," he said, pressing light kisses along Antonius' jaw. "As long as you'll have me."  _

_ As long… _

_ As long as you’ll have me. _

The world was sideways when Steve came back to himself.

Several faces hovered over him, various levels of worry evident in them, but Steve couldn't be bothered with any of that because he was overcome by a headache so great he felt he would be sick. 

He turned onto his side, pointedly away from Tony, and waited out the wave of nausea, covering his eyes with one hand and ignoring the fact that his face was completely flushed with embarrassment. If he looked down, they would, too, and they would see how much the visions were also, tragically, affecting his present self. 

**Tony**

Although Steve had been shrugging off his hand, Tony couldn’t stop himself from putting it back on his head even if he tried.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, and his fingers were shaking because Steve had just fallen to the damn floor when the flashback had set in. So far, he’d just frozen on the spot, looking dazed but his legs had never given out on him before. The worst that had happened was a glass of water shattering on the floor when Steve had zoned out in the kitchen once. But this… this was scary, and Tony vowed to himself to keep his distance from now on.

He couldn’t stand the thought of Steve hurting because of him, and if that meant he couldn’t see him anymore, well… it wasn’t fine, obviously, but it was… manageable, if it meant Steve didn’t have to go through this again.

Steve was practically curling in on himself, and Tony raised both brows when he spotted the tent in Steve’s pants, before his legs had drawn up against his chest fully. Steve’s face was all blotchy and red, and Tony had no idea if it was exertion, or pain, or something else entirely.

“There’s nothing we can give him?” he asked Bruce, who was kneeling next to Steve’s feet. Tony gently brushed his fingers through Steve’s hair and sighed wistfully when Bruce shook his head.

He knew the others were giving him looks, but he didn’t care. Let them think what they wanted, he couldn’t give a flying fuck. And maybe their thoughts weren’t that far from the truth, but even then, it wouldn’t matter.

“I’ll stay away from you,” he told Steve quietly and it was only when he sat back on his feet that he realized his mistake.

“What?” Clint asked, and his eyes were wide as saucers. “ _ You’re _ his trigger?” 

Natasha and Fury were both about to open their mouths to say something and Tony took that moment to stand up as fast as he could. “Just leave it be, it’s not any of your business,” he snapped at the room in general and walked out the door.

**Steve**

When Tony had touched him, there was no shaking him off, and Steve didn't bother trying. It's not like Tony knew how badly it affected him so soon after… after that vision. God… He still felt the  _ tingling _ all across his body, phantom residue of the vision. 

It took long moments for Tony's last words to sink in, and it took even longer to realize that now, everyone knew how big a part Tony played in his visions. By then, Tony was long gone, and Steve felt a dull ache that nearly had him scramble to his feet and follow him, catch him, do… do something. But he didn't know what he would do, and besides, his headache was so severe he didn't know if he'd actually manage to walk. 

And he felt eyes on him. All of the people who still remained in the room were staring at him. He didn't have to look to know this, and he kept himself curled up tight, refusing to meet their unasked questions.

 

* * *

 

**Tony**

Damn this event, Tony thought as he leaned back against the bar, nipping at the tumbler in his hands. The scotch burned down his throat as he watched the hundreds of people mingling in the room.

It was Memorial Day. One year since the Chitauri had attacked New York, since hundreds of people had lost their lives, and thousands had become homeless. He knew the importance of the day, of course, and he tried to keep his expression in check, but this—this was literal hell.

If it hadn’t been for this day, Tony would’ve holed himself up in his workshop instead of putting on a fancy suit, because he really wasn’t in the mood for bright smiles and easy chatter. Especially not if Steve was there too, in a tux of his own, looking unfairly attractive.

He was currently standing in the middle of a larger group, and by the looks of it, they were all military. He didn’t exactly look annoyed, but that clearly wasn’t a relaxed sort of expression either. 

They hadn’t seen each other since that SHIELD debrief, and Tony couldn’t believe that it had been two whole weeks. Two weeks of staying away from the common floor, from the gym, from basically everywhere where Steve could turn up.

It was awful.

And maybe a bit ridiculous, seeing how fast Tony had gotten used to Steve’s presence. He missed him in a way he hadn’t foreseen. In one of the darker hours, that maybe involved a bit too much alcohol, he’d even thought about calling him, but his last functional brain cells and the thought that maybe his voice was enough of a trigger, had stopped him.

It didn’t stop him from thinking about Steve all the time. His smiles, his voice, his blue eyes, and Tony didn’t know when exactly he had developed a crush for the guy but here he was.

And the realization that Steve had obviously been hard after that last flashback in the middle of the debriefing room didn’t help calm his mind either. He’d tried to hide it, sure, but Tony wasn’t stupid and Steve had drawn his knees to his chest a second too late for him not to notice.

So he didn’t know what Steve was seeing exactly, but his reaction was fairly obvious and if those flashbacks truly were about him, well…

“Oh dammit,” Tony muttered, turning back to the bar. He had the barkeeper refill his tumbler with another three fingers of his finest scotch, before he eventually left his Temple of Pining and went to do what he did best. Schmoozing and flirting and generally forgetting his problems by completely shutting off his brain.

**Steve**

They were keeping their distance. It was unfortunate that they had to even attend this event, considering the fact Thor still hadn't turned up with an antidote, but duty was duty and they did what was expected of them. Steve watched Tony, though, inconspicuously, from the periphery of his line of vision. And that meant he saw him drinking himself silly.

That was bound to end badly.

Steve looked around, then, hoping to find Clint, or maybe Natasha, and ask them to reach out and stop Tony from doing anything he'd regret once he sobered up, but they were both out of sight. He tried to tell himself Tony was an adult who could take care of himself, but when he saw a blond lady leaning far too close for comfort, and spotted the uncomfortable look on Tony's face, it was no use. Steve excused himself and walked over there.

"Excuse me, Miss, I need to borrow him for a bit," he said a little stiffly and grabbed Tony by the elbow, pulling him along. "Don't say a word," he whispered sideways to him. The last thing he needed now was a vision right in the middle of this stuck-up function. If Tony didn't speak, they'd be okay.

**Tony**

Tony did a zipping motion across his mouth, followed by an eyeroll as Steve dragged him off and away. Christine Everheart had barely gotten four sentences out before Tony had felt a firm tug on his arm. And now he was dragged through the crowd like Steve’s personal ragdoll.

While he followed Steve, toasting Bruce on the way when he noticed him looking over with raised brows, there were about a Million sentences forming on Tony’s lips.

_ Can’t stand to be around me, but can’t let me talk to other people either, huh? _

_ Tell me what you saw during debriefing right fucking now. _

_ You have very nice warm hands. _

_ Am I really part of your past life? _

He swallowed down all those questions and remained quiet, though. Steve was heading towards the large balcony. There were a few people mingling outside, too, but it was nothing in comparison to the crowd inside. Outside, Steve lessened the pressure on his wrist a little, then led him to a more secluded corner.

When Steve turned around, looking down at him, Tony only raised a brow, pointedly pressing his lips together.

**Steve**

They were at a stalemate again. It was bound to happen. Not only was Steve sure it was physically impossible for him to keep away from Tony, after two weeks of separation he’d also realized he didn't want to. He preferred the headaches. The… the visions, even. Seeing him with that lady… Thinking of all those days he didn't know what Tony was doing…

"I'm sorry I cut off your conversation. I didn't mean to be rude…" he said, eyeing Tony warily, but there was no response. Well okay, that was a relief. Tony would not speak, and Steve would not be triggered into another vision. Last time had been… embarrassing to say the least. That was also why he'd drawn Tony aside. Even if he did get a vision, it was essentially just the two of them.

"I know everyone's been real curious about…" He made a vague motion with his hand next to his head. "You know, my special "past life" flashbacks. I can't say I'm sold, but I think you deserve to know at least some of it…" He watched Tony looking at him, eyes so incredibly brown, sparkling in the dim light. "It's always about you and me. You're a… okay, this sounds crazy now, but… you’re a senator, and I'm a soldier and we're… friends." He wasn't sure how much to reveal, but there was now a touch to Tony's gaze that felt almost hypnotizing, almost impossible to look away from. 

God… Tony was so handsome, so smart in his tux, all cleaned up and trimmed. It was unfair how perfect he was. He didn't even notice the world tipping out. 

_ Yes, _ he thought,  _ Tony was perfect. _ His breathing quickened, became shallow, and he was gone.

_ Antonius was a perfect, golden image beneath Stephanus. His face a mask of concentration and pleasure, with his eyes tightly shut. The hasty tumble of their clothes just beside them was the only testament to how quickly they'd gotten from fully clothed to naked and rutting against one another. Stephanus, pressed deep inside Antonius' tantalizingly hot body, took a long moment to admire him. He shifted minutely before moving again. _

_ How lovely he was now, how sweet. It was difficult to put him and the guy, who just minutes ago had given a brilliant speech at the Senate's meeting, together. Arms reached up and circled Stephanus' neck, pulling him down into a kiss, and he went willingly. His movement was restricted for the moment, with Antonius' legs wrapped tightly around his middle, but that was alright. _

_ “Love you, Stephan,” Antonius whispered into the air between them, his body shuddering with every smooth motion. _

_ When Stephanus pressed in hard, Antonius tore his mouth away and gasped for air, panting in sharp bursts, probably trying not to make too much noise, but failing. He groaned as Stephanus worked him over, and then stiffened further as his climax took him by surprise. His hands flew to Stephanus’ arms, fingers digging in as he held on tightly. He leaned up, pressing his face into Stephanus’ neck, while he shook with his release. _

_ "I love you too, Antony," Stephanus managed to put in a few precious moments before Antonius got lost in his bliss. He loved seeing him like this, knowing this was a sight reserved only to himself, and that this was one thing none of the senators would ever get to see. It didn't take much longer for him to reach that peak as well, a low, possessive growl leaving him in the process. By the time it was over and his movements had slowed to a stop, they were both sweaty and out of breath, but the moment was better for it. He was reluctant to move, feeling warm and a little clingy. _

_ With his head on Antonius' chest, Stephanus let his fingers slide along the man's sides, trailing down to grab the globes of his ass with both hands. He gave a gentle massage as he pulled out carefully, and then pushed himself up and off Antonius, settling himself on his side so he could watch him. _

_ Antonius’ eyes opened with clear effort after several moments. Stephanus was studying him with a small smile on his face, thinking how amazing it was that so quickly, Antonius had become so important to him. They had come from opposite sites of this world, but he knew together they could go through hell and back. _

_ Antonius rumbled a deep breath. He dropped a hand on Stephanus’ chest, trailing downwards until his fingers played with the soft wisps of hair beneath his belly button. “Didn’t know my speeches would rile you up so much. I’d have brought you sooner.” _

_ Now was no time for bashfulness, but Stephanus felt the smile on his face shifting as the gentle tease distracted him. He would be up for another round pretty soon, but that was a thought for later. For now, he had time to enjoy the quiet aftermath. Antonius' words amused him. To think he'd mistake this enthusiasm with speech awe.  _

_ He leaned over and let his lips ghost over Antonius' cheek. "It was not the speech that got me in the mood to mark you, Antony." _

_ A shudder ran through Antonius’ limbs. “What then?” he asked, turning around and half-draping himself over Stephanus' body. “Just my ravishing looks?” He grinned, leaning down a little so he could kiss one of his many battle-scars—this one just above Stephanus’ heart. _

_ Stephanus' fingers trailed up, then slid into Antonius' lush hair. He let himself toy with the soft strands, watching those deep browns twinkle with joy. Steeling himself, he drew a steadying breath and leaned over to kiss Antonius' forehead. "It is the way Senator Stanus looks at you. I do not care for it. I worry." He looked to Antonius' lips as he continued. "He wears the kind of expression I've seen on the field many times before." _

_ “Ah,” Antonius breathed and further leaned up on his elbow. He cast Stephanus an indulgent smile, while he traced his hairline with a finger. “I told you that I’ve known the Senator my whole life, and my father before me. Obadiah and I do not spare each other harsh words during debates, sure, but he does not mean me any harm. Rome’s weapons manufacturing is just a sore topic for him, he does hold several shares.” He leaned down and kissed Stephanus softly. “Stop worrying, beloved.” _

_ "That is easier said than done," Stephanus said, smiling back just because looking at Antonius' affectionate expression made it impossible not to. "An enemy we don't know of is an enemy far more dangerous than the most heavily armed man on the battlefield. Promise me you'll be careful, Antony, and I won't bring it up again. I can't stand the thought of losing you…" _

_ “You won’t  _ lose  _ me,” Antonius said, chuckling. He moved forward, draping himself all over Stephanus’, swallowing down a groan when their lower regions made contact. “I do know how these games are played,” he murmured, and  _ Gods _ , he slowly started grinding down against Stephanus’ growing hardness, making him dizzy. “You and I, we were meant to be together, and if it calms your mind, then yes, I will keep a close eye on him.” _

_ Stephanus now had Antonius weight on top of him, and it was exactly where he wanted him. His hands reached down to steady his motions, resting low on his sides. Even as he let himself enjoy this, his eyes falling half closed, he hummed his affirmation. He felt it, too, that this thing between them was meant to be.  _ Gods _ , Antonius knew just how to move… "That—That's all I wanted to hear…" The smile on his face widened as he flexed his muscles and rubbed up against his lover with clear intention. _

**Tony**

This time, Tony spotted the signs immediately. Standing right in front of Steve, his eyes boring down into Tony’s, he could practically feel Steve losing his grip on the present time. His breathing became ragged, his eyes dilated, and then he slumped forward as if unconscious.

“Uh-hmpf,” Tony gasped when he suddenly had to keep Steve’s whole weight upright. That was one heavy super-soldier right there, and he had to really lean into him so Steve wouldn’t topple to the floor. Glancing around, Tony wrapped both arms around Steve’s middle and turned them until Steve’s back was directed to the few remaining people on the balcony.

His mind was busy trying to figure out what had triggered Steve this time, because he sure as hell hadn’t done anything. The most reasonable part of him was already worried of the migraine Steve was going to sport any minute. And his body was busy reacting to Steve’s body, and fuck, whatever Steve was currently seeing was affecting him, too.

“This is so unfair,” Tony breathed against Steve’s neck and he  _ would _ be feeling like a pervert if he’d had  _ any _ kind of choice in this. Steve’s hands were twitching against his side, and his breath was hot on Tony’s skin, and his dick was right  _ there _ , and really, he should get an award or something for not just jumping Steve’s bones, audience be damned.

Putting one hand on Steve’s head, he started rubbing his temples gently, knowing it wouldn’t exactly make him feel better, but it was all he could do. The other he deposited on Steve’s waist, pulling him nearer still.

**Steve**

Reality came back slowly this time. At first darkness had taken over the dreamscape, to be replaced with gentle moonlight. Steve's body was completely limp against… someone. Someone was keeping him upright. That was very nice of them.

"Thanks, Tony," he muttered, only then realizing who this someone was, and that just made the situation a lot more confusing. He took his own weight on his own feet, but didn't immediately pull away. There was… something, about this moment between them, in the vision but also right here. He knew he wasn't imagining the hot hardness pressed against his thigh.

"Uh…" he uttered, pulling just a tad back to try and look at Tony. And that was when his head started pounding. It wasn't as awful as any of the previous times, but it felt like a threat. He decided to keep close after all. If his face was flushed deep red, well… no one would notice in this lighting. 

**Tony**

There was a fierce shimmer of want that rushed through Tony’s blood, coupled with his dick rising to full attention.

Well, at least if Steve wasn’t into this after all, he’d know so now, because there was no way in this world or the next that Steve didn’t feel  _ that _ . On the other hand, Steve was still hard as well, and the fact that Tony had basically wrapped himself around him didn’t seem to change that.

“What did you see,” Tony asked, breathing those words right into Steve’s ear and God help him, if Steve didn’t tell him right now, he’d push him down into the balcony’s shadows and pump that information right out of him.

**Steve**

"We're not friends," Steve said in an equally quiet tone. "Our past selves. It was never friendship, I don't think past-me ever thought it was about that. You weren't so clear at first but I don't think either of us was confused about where it was headed." He paused, gathering his thoughts and tightening his hold on Tony for some reason he couldn't quite place. "I saw us… I saw us kissing and holding hands and… God… more than that."

He couldn't bring himself to use a crude word like 'fucking' right then, and 'making love' might've made Tony recoil, and Steve thought he might die if Tony pulled back and looked at him right now.

**Tony**

The will to battle this simply left Tony. Steve might not use the actual words, but the meaning was clear anyway. It was futile, struggling any longer or denying what he wanted. What he really, really wanted.

Brushing his cheek against Steve’s, Tony tugged him further in and he couldn’t have stopped himself from rubbing against Steve’s erection if his life depended on it. He moaned almost helplessly, and it turned into a breathless chuckle when he heard Steve respond in kind.

That was it, Tony supposed. He felt it. Steve felt it. And Tony pressed his lips against Steve’s neck in a series of wet, demanding kisses. “Tell me it’s not just the visions.”

**Steve**

The heady atmosphere between them was so thick that Steve wondered if he'd been thrown into another kind of vision, but he knew, somehow, that this was happening, and he felt a lightness inside that hadn't been there in years, like things were right as they should be. He let himself be in the moment for a while longer, until Tony spoke again, and then he slowed to a stop, keeping Tony in place with his hands on his hips. 

"It isn't the visions," he said, and even as he spoke, he recalled this last vision and something about it nagged him. He wasn't sure what it was—it was hard to tell when he was so aroused, but something—wait.

Weren't they on the balcony of this gala the Avengers had been invited to? 

"Tony," he said then, mortified. "We're in public."

**Tony**

Tony pulled back, his eyes wide. His arousal was like a constant throb in both his body and his mind, but this was more important.

He glanced sideways, confirming that there wasn’t already a bunch of people taking photos of them, before he looked back at Steve. Then, he cupped his cheeks. “Yeah, it’s public,” he said and smiled. “Ignore it? Just for a moment?” he asked and raised himself up on his toes. He pressed his lips against Steve’s and the last symptoms of resistance abandoned him wholly.

Whatever regrets he might or might not torture himself with in the days to come were worth this kiss. Tony’s heart was pounding so hard, he was sure it would break through his chest any moment.

**Steve**

He should've expected Tony to pull off something like this. Tony's hands were warm on his face and the kiss, which was surprisingly chaste, at least at first made him feel like he was floating a foot in the air. Steve had expected Tony to come on harder than this, but it built up much slower than that. 

He could feel Tony's chest thundering against his own, and a tendril of worry curled in his belly, but the kiss was so absorbing that he let himself drown in it for a bit longer. 

"Hey lovebirds," Natasha purred from where she stood, only a few feet from them. “There are still people waiting to meet you. And the press is asking for a group photo.”

They broke apart at once, putting some distance between them, and Steve felt the inklings of the headache he would've gotten if he'd pulled back earlier. This pollen thing was dangerous, he realized, but ignored that thought for now.

"Natasha." 

**Tony**

How quickly old habits returned. With a snarky, rebellious grin, Tony turned around and met Natasha’s amused gaze. “Not a word, Romanov,” he said, pointing a finger at her. Then he looked up at Steve and his smile likely became very soft and wondrous.

“Let’s meet up later?” he asked, and on an impulse, he reached for Steve’s hand and pressed a small kiss on its back. “Try not to faint again when I can’t catch you.” 

**Steve**

"I'll try," Steve said in response, giving an exasperated smile and watching Tony leave. The hand Tony had kissed curled into a loose fist as he turned to look at Natasha, who was watching him with a raised brow. "It's a long story," he said.

"It's not rocket science, Rogers. I could figure it out from over here, watching you suck-face." She turned from him, but didn't leave right away, so he waited out her silence to hear what she had to say. She seemed to weigh her words, so when she spoke it came as a surprise. "Don't play with people's hearts, Steve. Especially not with Tony's." 

Before he could even come up with an answer, she'd stalked off.


	4. Make Me Whole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. RL has been rough on both of us.  
> We would also like to thank our readers for all your lovely comments. We were very pleased you enjoyed our protective!Natasha.  
> Enjoy this final plot chapter.  
> The next installment will be an epilogue.

**Steve**

The next day, Thor arrived in the late morning. He called for a team meeting, and Steve and Natasha, the only people currently present in the common room, had left to collect their teammates. It seemed to be an unspoken agreement that Steve would go get Tony, while she took care of the others. "JARVIS?"

"Mr. Stark is in the penthouse, Captain."

"Thank you."

On his way, Steve's thoughts wandered back to the conversation he'd had with Tony when they'd gotten home the night before. He'd told Tony everything he'd gleaned from the visions, holding back no details in hopes of finally understanding what these visions were really about. He'd gotten a bad feeling about that last one—not the sex, obviously, but he didn’t know what to make of the conversation afterwards—Tony, however, seemed to think it wasn't a big concern.

Stepping into the penthouse, Steve followed JARVIS' instructions and entered Tony's bedroom.

"Hey, Tony?" Steve called, his tone soft, as he stepped in. "Thor's back. Asked us all to come up and see what he's got," he continued when he saw the man still lying in bed. "Hey, are you even awake?"

**Tony**

Tony blinked. He knew yesterday had been a weird day, and you’d think it couldn’t get any stranger after he’d gone to sleep, but waking up to Steve Rogers standing next to your bed with a very private and very intimate smile on his lips was still far beyond ordinary.

And yet, here he was, standing there, looking a bit sheepish but simultaneously hopeful.

Right. They’d kissed. And then some.

Also, Tony might or might not have been some kind of toga-wearing senator in Rome in one of his past lives. That was, if that complete bogus concept wasn’t total crap, which honestly, it probably was.

But still. _If_ it was true, he and Steve had been together once already. And the romantic residing in his heart’s hidden corners was trying to tell him that maybe that thing between Steve and him would all be alright because they might have been meant to get together from the beginning.

Tony rolled around until he was lying on his back, looking up at Steve with still sleepy eyes. “Am now,” he said and raised a hand at Steve. “Come’ere.”

**Steve**

Steve considered refusing, briefly, to encourage Tony to get brushed up and ready, but eventually there was no denying that bed-head and sleepy eyes. He sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned down. "The things I put up with," he muttered, though he was smiling. "Billionaire's morning breath." And before Tony could say anything to that, he pressed their lips together, giving him a thorough kiss.

If that didn't wake him properly, nothing would.

When Tony grabbed for him, Steve withdrew and got to his feet. "No, none of that. Come on. If they got the antidote, I want this business dealt with as soon as possible."

**Tony**

When reaching for Steve again didn’t help, Tony sat up with an annoyed groan. “You’re no fun,” he grumbled as he stood up, making sure to stretch thoroughly.

Slowly, he shuffled over to the bathroom. “I’ll be down in five, you can wait if you want. Or join me in the shower—just saying.” He cast Steve a wide grin before he walked into the room and took a quick shower. Steve didn’t join him, but Tony could hear him lingering. And it took everything in him not to let himself get lost in the hot water and the steam wafting around his head.

So Thor had finally brought the antidote, and Tony knew it was something he should be happy about. No more headaches for Steve, no more having to be cautious around him, no more wracking his brain over the concept of past lives.

And yet… there was a connection now. A link to another version of himself, a whole different time altogether. And there was _Steve_ —Good, honest Steve who by all means shouldn’t want an eccentric guy like Tony, but apparently, those visions had somehow changed his mind.

Tony let his forehead drop against the moist shower wall. He hated feeling so insecure, but what would happen if the one thing that had brought them together was gone? Maybe if he had the chance to see those flashbacks for himself, maybe if he knew what Steve knew, he’d be able to keep this.

Shaking his head, Tony turned off the shower head, and reached for one of the towels. He scrubbed himself off with quick motions, then walked into his adjacent wardrobe. Picking a jeans and a shirt, new socks and sneakers, Tony dressed, pointedly not looking in the mirror.

There _was_ no preparing for what would happen once Steve’s flashbacks were gone. Better to get his mind on a different track altogether. Tony whistled a long sigh. For now, Steve wanted him, so he would simply have to make the most of the time they had.

**Steve**

Steve waited in Tony's room. He noticed that, despite the fact that he was still prone to get a flashback at any minute, the tension was gone. Even if he got one, Tony would be there and it would be alright. Besides, he didn't have much longer to wait, did he?

And when this mess was finally over, he could turn his full attention to this thing that had started building between them. A surprise, for sure, but not an unpleasant one by any means. Kissing Tony in the morning was an obvious plus. A slight blush rose to his face at the thought of Tony's offer to take a shower with him. Yes, he’d passed this time, but at some point…

It reminded him of that bath in his vision, and it made him wonder if he and Tony could ever be like that. If they could spend quiet, comfortable time with one another while talking about everyday stuff.

It hadn’t seemed possible before, but now… he had a feeling they could.

When Tony came out of the shower, Steve couldn't help but enjoy the sight of him, dressed casually, scrubbed clean, refreshed after a good night's sleep. They stood there smiling at one another for a long moment, before Steve turned and they went to the common room together.

Thor was still standing in the center of the room, and the sofas were mostly occupied by the rest of their team, but no one commented on the delay, even though Natasha did give Steve a knowing look, which he pointedly ignored.

"My friends, I have brought a fair amount of antidote," Thor spoke as soon as he saw everyone was assembled. "We can start administering it now."

**Tony**

Tony watched how Clint basically ran over to where Thor stood before the guy had even finished talking.

There was a big golden chest standing next to the couch table, and inside were a good bunch of vials with a clear green liquid.

“No offense to your buddy’s people and their traditions,” Clint told the God, “but I’m not a big fan.”

“With the right handling, the Oufros Alder can be quite helpful,” Thor said with an indulgent smile, but he reached into the chest and handed Clint a vial anyway. “Drink it all at once, the effect should be immediate.”

“Did you bring enough in case Steve’s metabolism burns through it?” Tony asked and stepped up to Thor. There were at least twenty vials in there, so there was plenty of antidote at their expense…

Thor clapped a hand on his shoulder, and Tony pointedly didn’t wince at his tight grip. “I did explain Steven’s situation to the Vanir’s shamans, and they were confident that the antidote would have the same effect on him as on everyone else.”

“Interesting,” Bruce said quietly. He had one of the vials in his hands, twirling it back and forth. “Maybe we could talk to them sometime.”

Next to them, Clint raised the vial in front of his face, and with a sceptical look, uncorked it. “Bottoms up,” he told the room in general, and as if bracing himself for a shot of tequila, he knocked the whole content back in one go.

For a second, there was a green shimmer in Clint’s eyes, but it vanished in the next. “That’s it?” Clint asked, putting the now-empty vial back into the chest. “Sort of anticlimactic.”

“Shut up and be grateful,” Natasha chided and raised herself to her feet.

Tony could feel Steve standing right behind him now, and realized that this would all be over really fast. He sighed heavily. The vials blurred the longer he stared at them.

“There’s no lasting damage, right?” he asked Thor, his voice casual. “That antidote will just cleanse everything, and they’re back to normal?”

“ _Now_ you’re asking questions?” Clint asked, glaring at him.

Thor looked at him squarely. “It will, yes. The Ofrous Pollen is a powerful ingredient, one with a unique power in the Nine Realms. Hogun confided that the memories the Ofrous brought back are very persistent, so it is likely that you will not forget what you have seen. A glance into your former lives is bound to leave you changed.” He glanced up at Steve and smiled reassuringly. “But I am certain you are all strong enough to handle that knowledge.”

Thor and his goddamn talk of past lives. He sounded so sure about it, like there was no doubt in this world or the next that reincarnations were real. That what he and Steve had back then, was real…

Balling a hand into a fist, Tony closed his eyes for a brief moment. He knew what he was about to do was stupid, and somewhat reckless, but his brain was busy repeatedly screaming ‘Once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity’ at him with ringing alarm signals. And he’d never been able to turn down a chance like this. It had been a losing game the moment he’d put the alien bulb beneath that bell jar.

“Alright then,” Tony announced, smiling brightly at Thor. “Great work with the antidote. Glad this one’s solved. Go team! Bruce, keep a few of them for testing, yeah?”

He turned around and, because he didn’t know how comfortable Steve was with making their whatever-it-was official yet, he awkwardly petted his shoulder. “You got this, right? I forgot I have this… thing… in the workshop. I’ll be up again for dinner later.”

And then, without ceremony, he walked out of the room, pointedly forcing himself not to come across too hurried.

**Steve**

Tony was retreating. The look on his face was… It seemed desperate, but how could that be? Didn't he want to stick around? To test if the antidote worked for Steve as well? This kind of behavior just didn't make sense. Unless…

"Tony?" he called after him, but it didn't slow him down. If anything, Tony seemed to be more in a hurry than before. Steve followed, but by the time he reached the elevator, the doors had closed.

Damn it.

"Dr. Banner," Steve said, turning to Bruce. "Did Tony ever dispose of that bulb you brought him?" And he knew the answer because he'd been there last, but he had to ask, and saw Bruce frowning.

Steve didn't wait for a response and hurried for the stairs.

**Tony**

As soon as Tony stepped into the workshop, he rushed over to where the bulb was still standing beneath the huge bell jar.

“JARVIS,” Tony called, heaving the thing into his arms. “Complete lockdown, and prepare the contamination chamber.”

The bulb’s leaves were now mostly brown, only a few speckles of green remaining. It didn’t matter. Worst thing that could happen was that it didn’t have an effect on him at all. Or so Tony kept repeating to himself.

He grabbed for one of his larger hammers on the way to the cabin that was situated on the far side of the workshop. This wasn’t exactly the way to go, Tony knew that, but a more careful approach was definitely too time-consuming. And as soon as the others caught up to what he was about to do, every chance at seeing who he once had been was off the table.

So with that hammer in hand, he stepped into the chamber and put the jar down on one of the examination tables.

“This is stupid... stupid, stupid, stupid,” Tony sing-songed as he raised the bell jar into the air. The bulb smelled… well, it smelled like a plant that was about to go rotten, there wasn’t anything unusual about it.

He could hear the doors of the cabin lock behind him, and the lights within the small room turned green, indicating that everything was ready to spray Tony with the disinfectant if need be.

“If anything goes wrong, inform the others,” he told the room in general and heard JARVIS agree with a fair amount of disapproval in his voice.

“Alright, here goes nothing…” he said, and reached for that hammer again. If he stood right next to it, chances were high that he’d be catapulted into the exact same timeframe as Steve had.

**Steve**

The workshop was on lockdown, JARVIS informed him, and Steve was getting ready to punch his way through the door, but it opened on his approach.

"Safety protocols activated," JARVIS announced as Steve showed himself into the room. He saw Tony in the decontamination chamber with the hammer in hand and ran for him. "Tony, no!"

What the hell was he trying to do?

_"It's not safe!"_

And the world veered off its axis again, as Tony brought down the hammer and was engulfed with the plant's pollen.

**Tony**

_It’s not safe!_ Tony heard Steve yelling, and he had a moment of panic as he was suddenly surrounded by a thick vapor of dust. It was a lot like standing next to an open fire, breathing in its smoke, and Tony could barely take in two breaths before he started coughing.

On the next beat, JARVIS activated the ventilation system and it barely took two seconds before the dust was sucked right out of the room.

That worked well, Tony mused. Must’ve been around the same time that Steve had stood next to the bulb. He took that moment to congratulate himself on a job well done, then his head started spinning.

Looking to the chamber’s glass front, Tony spotted Steve kneeling on the floor, his head hanging down, his arms limp. Shit, he must’ve been pulled into another vision. There was guilt in the back of Tony’s mind, but it was pushed to the background by a fierce throbbing inside his head, and Tony could barely reach for the table in front of him, before the room around him vanished.

It’s not safe _, Antonius thought repeatedly._

_Taking two steps at a time, he ran up the stairs that led to Stephanus’ quarters within the army’s barracks. The trees surrounding the large building were swaying in the hot dry wind and it swirled Antonius’ toga as he stormed through the main entrance. The legionnaires in the main hall weren’t even giving him surprised glances anymore, probably knowing exactly why and for whom he was here._

_So Antonius walked down the large corridors, a plan forming in his mind. They’d have to leave Rome right after the vote had taken place, so he should start on preparations this evening, make sure Virginia was safe before he abandoned her._

_And after that? He did not know what future they’d head towards, and it likely was none that either of them had foreseen, but with Stephanus at his side, it would be a future that was worth living for._

_Antonius rounded that last corner and glimpsed over his shoulder, before he knocked. As soon as Stephanus’ voice resounded inside his chambers, Antonius stepped inside._

_“We have to leave the city,” he said without any preliminaries. Only now did he realize how out of breath he truly was, and slumped a little, as he leaned back against the now-closed door. “You were right, it’s not safe.”_

_Stephanus rushed towards him, his hands clasping his shoulders. "Calm down, Antonius, what are you talking about?" he asked, searching Antonius’ face worriedly. "What's not safe?"_

_He went straight for Stephanus, grabbing his head and jerking his mouth to his. He melted against him for a moment, before pulling back. “One of Obie’s supporters came to talk to me today. He… he owes me for helping him a few years ago, and while he doesn’t have any proof, he thinks Obie is plotting against me.”_

_He swallowed, cupping Stephanus’ cheek. There was already rage forming behind those blue eyes, and knowing Stephanus, he wouldn’t hold it in much longer, so he didn’t waste any time to explain. “I don’t know to what extent. Obie… Senator Stanus, he’s… he’s very close to me. I do not want to believe he’d harm me, but… I don’t think I want to find out.”_

Not with you by my side. Not now, that my life finally makes sense.

_"Where will you have us go?" Stephanus asked, the worry plainly visible on his face. He ushered Antonius towards a small lounging area, where a low sofa stood. "And what about Virginia?"_

_“I’ll make sure she is safe,” he replied and pinched his nose as he turned around. He was still dizzy with the news—the thought of Obadiah turning against him wearing him down. “I’ll leave the night after the vote. Iacomus will take her in, and we’ll all meet up again in a few months. I don’t really know where to go yet. For now, we could take shelter at Ostia, I know someone there, and after… we’ll go somewhere that’s not here.”_

_Antonius raised his head after a moment, turning around and cautiously meeting Stephanus’ gaze. For some reason, the thought that he would not be joining him hadn’t even crossed his mind, but now, he felt foolish for it. “He does not care for you, of course. You’re safe. You don’t have to leave Rome, Stephan. Maybe you shouldn’t.”_

_Stephanus shook him slightly, his hands grasping Antonius' shoulders again. "Don't even think it, Antony. I'll take my leave from the legion first thing tomorrow morning... I am owed some bonuses, we can get by for some time." He leaned down to kiss Antonius soundly again, his hands rising to cup his face. "You cannot possibly think I'd stay behind when you're leaving."_

_Stephanus remained silent for a long moment, and he was hugging Antonius tightly, his face tucked into his neck. "But we have to leave as early as possible—tonight. We can't trust that they'd let you take the stand for the vote."_

_A frown took hold of Antonius’ face. It was careless to stay any longer, but then again, he couldn’t just leave right now, could he?_

_“I have responsibilities,” he mused, more talking to himself than anything else. “It took me months to gain supporters within the Senate, if I’m not there tomorrow, all my work—our combined effort—will go to waste. I can’t just go tonight…”_

_"You cannot win this vote if you are dead, Antony," Stephanus pressed. "If we leave tonight, we can come back later and try again, but if this plot—whatever it is—is executed, we lose everything. Please see reason, sweetheart."_

_“I…” Words left him, and Antonius took a deep breath. He didn’t know how all of this could’ve happened, and his head was still spinning. But he placed his confusion aside for now, and felt himself nod. He hated having to let everyone down, and worry crept up on him that Obie would seek revenge with someone else instead, but looking at Stephanus, he knew it was the right thing to do._

_Looking at him, he saw a life in his future, a life he’d never thought someone like him could have. In those blue eyes he saw joy, and trust and endless love, and if he had to be selfish to keep all this, then so be it._

_“Tonight then,” he whispered, leaning up on his toes so he could press his lips, and his whole body, against Stephanus. “Meet me down at my workshop, I’ll have a carriage readied. I need to talk to Virginia first… but we can be gone in three hours.”_

_Stephanus let out a low breath. He kissed Antonius once more, just a light peck on the lips, and nodded his head. "I will be there ahead of time. In the meantime, keep an eye out, all right?" Stephanus instructed, then, after a pause, he rushed to one of his shelves and pulled off a sheathed dagger. "Here," he said, handing it over. "This one is for stabbing, slashing won't do anything, but if anyone tries anything… Keep a firm grip on it, it's harder to get it out of a person than it is to get it in them, but if they come for you, you'll need it in your hands and not in someone else's body."_

Stephanus had bidden him goodbye soon after, with a final kiss and a few murmured declaration of love. There were things the human brain didn’t remember without a trigger, Tony knew that. And Steve’s words were followed by a story that built upon itself as memories broke through the walls of Tony’s mind.

It wasn’t just that one vision, that one moment in the barracks, it was a whole life creeping up on him as he lay on the floor gasping for air. The headache, while painful, was far in the background as it all came crashing down. He saw more than he wanted to know, and the things he saw playing out in front of his eyes were wrapped around experiences that had once been his.

Past lives… it was crazy, unbelievable, and yet this was his—was _theirs_.

_Steve_ , Tony thought as he tried to sit up again, but in the moment he might as well have called him Stephanus, because those lines in his head were essentially nonexistent.

He aimed a strained smile in Steve’s direction when he caught his glance. The contamination chamber’s door had opened, the light within the room green once more, and Tony slowly rose to his feet.

The memories were between them. Steve had already given him a story in black and white, but now that it was filled with color, Tony was at a loss for words.

**Steve**

Something was different this time, with the vision, and Steve only took a moment to grasp it. He stared at Tony and pushed himself up as well. His memories had been completely unlocked, and if Tony's gaze was anything to go by, so did Tony's. It was all there, from the moment they'd met, through all their little encounters and Steve's—Stephanus'—concerns.

He knew how it had ended, too.

"Did you see?" he asked, a little too shaken to ask more clearly. When he reached for Tony, he clasped his hands in his. "Do you understand why we have to get that antidote now?"

**Tony**

Tony entwined their fingers, and went down on his knees next to Steve.

“What does it matter, anyway? I know everything, as do you,” he said in return and pressed their foreheads together. “This is crazy, I feel like my mind’s ripped in two… I can still feel you kissing me goodbye.”

**Steve**

Shaking his head against Tony's, Steve let him pull him down until they were both sitting there, on the workshop floor. He held on tight and closed his eyes. "It _matters_. What if this thing drags me to another past life? I can’t go through that again." He swore, letting himself meet Tony's gaze. "It's so vivid… How worried I was when I… when Stephanus…"

He wasn't even sure how to talk about it, now that they both _knew_ what had happened on that day. Hell, he could still smell the nighttime alleys he'd run through in his memories...

Meet me down at my workshop, _Antonius had said. So with his luggage packed and everything he needed on his person, Stephanus set out to find his beloved at the domus. He was early, but he'd told Antonius he would be, so he didn't much worry about that._

_All the way over, he kept his eyes open and looked in all directions, but the streets were relatively empty, and the moonlight was the only illumination offered to him as he approached the house. A pang of worry gripped him at the solemn sight of the domus._

Antony…

_Hurrying into the house, Stephanus set out to find him in the workshop, but the place seemed deserted. He was starting to panic, when a noise called his attention. A terrible sound._

_"Antony!" he called, rushing for Antonius' rooms. He stopped dead in his steps at the entrance, the picture before him impossible to grasp._

**Tony**

“I know,” Tony breathed and he could see Steve’s eyes grow distant. And he knew what was going through his head because it was the same for him. That night… it was all there. The dark night sky above the city, the way the air had smelled when he’d made his way back to his domus. He’d felt a potent mixture of sadness and joy when he'd thought of leaving Rome. Sadness, because he wouldn’t see his friends for a long while, and because he wouldn’t be able to do what he’d set out to do… and joy, well. He would be starting a new life with Stephanus, and that was more important than anything else.

“We’ll take that antidote,” he told Steve when he saw him shaking his head slightly, his gaze focusing on him. “I’m so sorry, Steve… for what happened back then. It was all my fault. We should’ve just left the city, it was stupid of me to go home first, and I…”

Tony broke off and closed his eyes. There were tears threatening to spill over, and he pinched his nose to get a hold of himself. He had been so blind, so naive to think that Stanus wouldn’t truly hurt him, and that had sealed his doom.

_Antonius raised his head and tried to force himself up on his elbows, but his lower abdomen hurt too much to think about it, so he dropped back down._

_His attacker was standing only a few feet away, drawn towards the corridor when Stephanus had called his name. There was another man, now dead, lying on the floor next to Antonius, with Stephanus’ dagger stabbed deep inside his throat, and at least he had this, Antonius thought. At least he’d gone down fighting. Death and the glory of battle and all that. They say it brings peace, dying like this. But Antonius wasn’t sure it worked that way._

_How could there be peace if wherever he was going now, Stephanus wouldn’t be at his side?_

_“Leave him be,” Antonius rasped brokenly, raising a hand as if he could just grab the man’s tunic and pull him to the floor. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”_

_Every fiber in him wanted to stand up, but he couldn’t. He felt blood rushing out of his body in a steady stream and pressed his eyes closed. He felt so cold, his body was battered, and of course he knew there was no walking away from these sorts of wounds._

_“No witnesses,” the man in front of him said, the tone of his voice betraying no mercy, and the words had Antonius sob._

_“Please…” he asked, because he hadn’t begged for himself, but he would for Stephanus._

**Steve**

"You were… distracted. By me. It's nothing we can fix now." Steve reached up, looking at Tony as he set a hand on his shoulder. "We did what we could, yeah?"

_There were no words to describe how Stephanus felt at that moment, and even if there had been, he wouldn't have been able to find them. It was like his worst nightmare unfolding in front of him. And the sound that left him—Gods—he didn't recognize as his own voice at all. His luggage dropped to the floor and he reached for his gladius, a memento from the troops, his superior had said. Neither of them had suspected it would see blood today._

_By the time he unsheathed it, the remaining assassin had conveniently come in range, and Stephanus launched an attack. He might have shouted a battle cry. It didn't matter. Even from the glimpse he'd gotten it was clear Antonius was done for. There was nothing Stephanus could do to change that. He could only avenge him and be there for him in his last moments. The stinging in his eyes went unheeded as he ran the villain through with his sword._

_The look of utter surprise on the man's face was soon replaced with agony, as he collapsed to the floor. Stephanus didn't even waste a minute on that excuse of a human existence and hurried to his beloved, falling to his knees beside him and frantically running his eyes over him. Even bleeding out and dying, there was such beauty to this man. Stephanus felt a sob rising in his chest. "Antony…" he whispered, reaching for him tentatively._

**Tony**

Tony nodded and cupped Steve’s cheeks with both hands. They both sat leaning towards each other, but even that small space between them seemed too much. Drawing nearer, he saw Steve’s eyes had focused on something he couldn’t see, but the expression on his face spoke of horrors beyond imagination. Tony remembered the blood leaving his body, remembered those stab wounds, and the pain was a distant hum, but the pure despair in Stephanus’ eyes wasn’t.

_He lay there, heavy and immobile, and knew he was not dead. Not yet. But he did feel it in the air. It truly was a dreary state of consciousness._

_There were fingers brushing over his face, and Antonius forced himself to open his eyes once more. As if on pure instinct, a smile rose to his lips, and he clumsily reached for Stephanus’ hand. “‘M sorry, beloved. Don’t think we’ll make it to Ostia…”_

“I loved you so much,” Tony said, and didn’t even cringe at the words, because with all of those memories settling in his head, it was the truest thing he had ever known.

**Steve**

A sharp sound left Steve at that, a combination of surprise and laughter and pain. He blinked a few times, to make sure Tony wouldn't see how close he was to tears. It felt at once completely ridiculous, the two of them sitting on the floor and crying over memories from past lives, but at the same time absolutely heartrending.

"I did, too,” Steve breathed. “And I failed you…"

_Denial was sharp, quick, negating reason, but it came out before Stephanus could think better of it. He shook his head vehemently. "No. No you can't. You can't do this…" It was childish, but he couldn't help himself. He grasped Antonius' hand tightly, as if just by holding on he could keep the thread of his lover's life whole. His next inhale was a sniffle, but he couldn't be bothered with wondering about the tears. "You can't leave me…"_

_But he was going to. Oh how pale he'd become, how slight. And the puddle of blood was so big… Stephanus had seen enough men perish like this before, but he'd never imagined he would have to watch life leave someone he loved this way. "Please…" He pressed Antony's hand to his cheek, eyes shutting tightly for a brief moment._

Taking a slow breath in through the pain in his chest, Steve closed his eyes. "I couldn't protect you."

**Tony**

“Not your fault. And you didn’t fail me,” Tony said, his fingers trailing over Steve’s temples. He really wished he would be looking at him. Small tremors were seizing his body, and he had a feeling it would take a long while to get used to having two whole lives stuffed into his head.

He still had a hard time grasping how any of this was possible. Why they’d been given that chance to meet again, all those thousands years later. It had to be a coincidence, right? The fact that they were here now, with Steve being frozen for over seventy years, it was insane.

_While Antonius had always believed in choice over fate, he also did believe that some things happened for a reason. And even in the cold light of his death, he couldn’t accept that their love would fade into the void along with his body._

_“Won’t leave you,” he said softly, urgently, as feeling drained from him. There was movement behind Stephanus, but he was already too far gone, his mind didn’t possess the clarity anymore. He only knew that their love had been one of those rare beautiful things in this otherwise cruel world, and he would keep it close to the heart, demanding from this world or the next that he could, one day, be with Stephanus again._

_“We’ll see each other again,” he breathed the promise into the air, “in another life, my love.”_

_By the time his eyes closed, he did not feel it anymore._

He’d died… Antonius had died. And the feeling of it would now forever be burned into Tony’s memories. The last thing he remembered were fingers brushing over his forehead and then he’d… vanished. He’d left.

Here, right now, though, his arms tightened around Steve, and he was solid and warm and whole. And Tony simply couldn’t stop those tears from falling down anymore. The last time he’d cried—truly cried—had been right after Jarvis’ funeral, and that was over twenty years ago. But now, it felt _not_ crying for what they’d lost would be betraying what they’d had.

Tony knew love didn’t always triumph. He wasn’t stupid. Love, when tested, most times failed to beat the odds. But it didn’t make what they’d had any less true.

Leaning in, and pressing his whole self against Steve, and accepted what had happened if it meant they could start anew.

“I love you still.”

**Steve**

Steve let Tony press closer, embraced him and leaned his check against his head. His hand rubbed soothing circles on Tony's back, and he swallowed thickly before speaking, barely trusting his own voice. "Yeah… I love you, too."

There may not have been a specific reason for them being shown these memories, but he was certain that they were meant to meet again, especially in light of what had happened in their past lives.

_Stephanus was shaking his head, not willing to accept it when the hold on his hand loosened completely. He held on, rubbed his forehead against Antonius' fingers. "Antonius…" he urged, but no answer came. His breath hitched with the thought of it. Never seeing his smile again, never kissing him, or hearing his absurd ideas. It was impossible to think that the light could be taken from his lover's eyes and the breath from his chest, but now Antonius' form lay still before him. When Stephanus opened his eyes again to look at him, it was so eerily different to how he looked when he slept._

_He heard someone approach behind him, but didn’t care to turn around. "Antony," he said again, this time his tone a little more resigned. He set Antonius' hand over his still chest and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "Rest, now." The shuffling noises approached, but still Stephanus did nothing to acknowledge the danger. What good would it do him to live, if Antonius was no more? "I'll see you again, my love. In another life...”_

_The pain was sharp, and instant, and when he looked down, he saw the edge of his own gladius sticking through his chest. It was a well aimed strike, he managed to think for the brief moment of clarity he had left. By the time he collapsed on top of Antonius, it was all over._

"Hey," Steve said after a moment of silence had passed between them. He reached up to cup Tony's face in his palm, and turned to look at him. "We got our second chance, didn't we?"

**Tony**

“We did,” Tony agreed and smiled. He didn’t know why, didn’t understand the mechanics of it, but in the long run, Tony figured it didn’t matter. His eyes searched Steve’s as if seeking something he couldn’t name—a hidden catch in his words, maybe. There was none. He had fallen in love with Steve all those centuries ago, and he’d fallen in love with him now. The visions had just linked those lives together.

So he just smiled and leaned in again, kissing Steve and wrapping his whole self around him.

It might be new memories, but it didn’t change who he was at the core. And the fact that they’d remained as important to each other as in their former life had him burning with hope.


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hope you enjoy this treat after all the dramatics :)

**Tony**

Clint rolled his eyes as he pointed his glass in their direction. “Did I mention yet that you guys are the world’s biggest dorks?”

Tony grinned and leaned back against Steve’s chest. “You’re just jealous because we look awesome and no one understands your costume.”

Aghast, Clint turned to Natasha. “You understood it, right?”

“Of course, sweetie,” Natasha answered for the third time this evening and indulgently petted Clint’s shoulder. She looked like some mixture of cat and panther, and her fingernails were deathly sharp. The moment Tony had seen her entering the party floor, he'd vowed not to mess with her today.

“I have the wig, the coat, the shoes, I even got a mini-TARDIS.” Clint raised up the small phone booth that dangled from his neck. “How could you  _ not _ know that I’m the Twelfth Doctor?”

“Because I don’t watch it?” Tony asked, his grin growing broader.

“Still better than that,” Clint said, simultaneously pointing at Tony’s and Steve’s costumes. “Dressing like your past lives? Really? You look like characters from one of those cheesy romance novels.”

Tony shrugged, unbothered. To get his point across, he reached for one of Steve’s arms that was currently wrapped around him and raised its hand to his lips. “What can I say. I do love my Centurion.”

**Steve**

Clint pulled such a disgusted face that it made Steve laugh. When he'd agreed to Tony's idea for their costumes, he hadn't really thought Tony would go ahead and get an actual crew of costume designers to make authentic versions for them. Just getting into the centurion gear had felt a lot like a fond memory that wasn't exactly his own.

"Your Centurion is thirsty, so unless you want to join me…" Steve said, making to pull away from Tony, who in response grabbed his other hand as well. Steve chuckled at that, but it only dissolved into another bout of laughter when Clint waved his hands in defeat and stalked off. 

"Congratulations, you've out-trolled Clint," Natasha said, not without sparing an amused smile in their direction. "I'll be out on the porch if you need me." 

**Tony**

Tony took that as a cue to turn around in Steve’s arms and wrap his own around Steve’s middle instead.

“I know this is our party, but I held my speech and we greeted everyone so… on a scale from one to ten, how opposed are you to just sneaking away right now?”

He raised himself on his toes a little, and let his nose brush along the line of Steve’s neck where the chest plate ended. The designers had really outdone themselves, the armor almost looked like the one Stephanus had worn all those centuries ago.

Shaking his head, Tony’s hands tightened around Steve and slowly dug a little deeper, his fingers barely brushing the upper curve of Steve’s ass. “We can get you something to drink on our way out…” 

**Steve**

"Starting out you were at a six," Steve said, his hands resting loosely on Tony's lower back. He made no effort to pull back. "But now I think we're at four." He ran his fingers along skin-warm cloth. 

It had been easy to let himself have this after what they'd seen. He enjoyed spending time with Tony, no matter what they did, at the workshop or the gym, and, more often still, in bed. He liked all aspects of this new shape their relationship had taken. It felt right.

"Get me to two and we're out of here." And that was all but a murmur next to Tony's ear, his voice private. 

**Tony**

“‘Get me to two’?” Tony echoed and leaned back a little to cast Steve a meaningful smirk. “Are you really challenging me right now?” he asked. The hand resting just above Steve’s ass dipped lower, just the tiniest bit. The party guests all around them were busy with chatting and drinking anyway. There must be a good few hundred people mingling around, and with everyone in Halloween costumes, only a few were paying them any attention.

“You should know better,  _ Stephan _ .” He let two fingers dip beneath the hanging strips of Steve’s uniform skirt. He wore a light tunic underneath and Tony, knowing that his digits were shielded well enough by the leather strips, pressed his finger against the cloth, brushing it down between Steve’s cheeks, then back up. He could hear Steve’s sharp intake of breath and slowly pulled his hand back, resting it on Steve’s waist instead.

“I don’t possess an ounce of shame so don’t tempt me, that’d be a losing game,  _ beloved _ .”

**Steve**

It took Steve a good few seconds to get his bearings back, but he did, and his knees didn't even give, that was a win in itself. Tony was  _ so _ inappropriate sometimes, but really, Steve wasn't about to complain. Besides, two could play this game. He took a deep breath and let it out evenly. God how he wanted to get under that toga, show Tony what teasing him like this could do…

"Hmm," he said, feigning disinterest and probably doing a poor job of it. "We're at three. Nice trick, though." 

**Tony**

Well, there were breaking points. And then there were Breaking Points. This one was clearly the latter. Tony exhaled deeply and warned his cock not to stir, because the light cloth of his outfit would leave little to the imagination.

Of course, his dick rarely listened to him whenever Steve was around. As it was, he’d been semi-hard the entire time Steve’s voice had tickled his ears. Also, there was that damn Centurion uniform and Tony had no idea why he thought he could spend a whole night by Steve’s side when he was wearing this.

Clearly, his past self had had a lot more self-control. Or maybe the first dozen times he’d peeled the armor off of Steve’s chest had given him some magical self-restraint powers whenever they’d been in public.

Tony, on the other hand, couldn’t deal with this one minute longer.

He put both hands on Steve’s face, smiling sweetly as he looked up at him.

“Did I mention that I’m not wearing anything under this toga?”

**Steve**

Steve's eyes widened and his mind stuttered to a halt for a full minute, before he gulped and chanced a glance down between them. The images came unbidden, each dirtier than the next, and before long, Steve had to admit defeat. 

"Come on," he said, ushering Tony towards the nearest exit as discreetly fast as possible. 

"What, we're leaving already?" he heard Tony tease him on a quick laugh, like it didn't matter what people thought, if they got caught escaping their own party, but at this point, Steve couldn't care about those things either.

"We're working on a scale of one to ten how much I want to get under that toga now, Tony. Want to take a guess how that scale is doing?" he asked him quietly as they approached the elevator and called it. 

**Tony**

The elevator dinged, the doors opening behind Tony. Burying both hands in Steve’s belt, Tony  _ pulled _ and stepped back into the elevator with him. His eyes never left Steve’s and as soon as the doors were about to close, Tony pushed him against the wall.

“Fuck the scale,” he ground out, then his mouth was at Steve’s throat. Without much of a ceremony, his right hand pressed against the leather strips above Steve’s crotch. He could barely feel his erection, but he knew it was there, and seeing how Steve’s hips jerked against him immediately,  _ he _ did feel it.

With a soft bite into the skin of Steve’s neck, Tony drew his head up, smirking. “But I’m guessing it’s in the… lower regions.”

**Steve**

A dull thud reverberated through him when Tony shoved him against the elevator wall, but he was soon too preoccupied with Tony's distracting tongue and lips at his neck and that hand that didn't give enough pressure. His arms wrapped around Tony and held him close, twisting a little under the assault. He pushed himself away from the wall and fluidly turned the tables on Tony, pressing him against the other side of the elevator and then rubbing slowly against him. He could barely feel anything through his armor and the ridiculous leather-strip skirt, but the effect he was going for was more for Tony's sake than his own at the moment, anyway.

Reaching down, Steve gathered some of the material of Tony's toga in his hand before he let himself cup Tony's hardness. It was, as promised, not contained by anything. A shudder ran through Steve and he closed his eyes, leaning his forehead on Tony's shoulder.

"You never did anything like this back then…" he whispered, barely contained want filling him entirely, and he soon turned to cover Tony's lips with his own. 

**Tony**

The elevator’s door dinged again and the fact that Tony even noticed was definitely a miracle. Steve had his whole hand wrapped around his erection and Tony could barely keep himself upright—could barely respond to Steve’s enthusiastic kisses.

The doors were about to close again, and Tony blindly slapped his hand on the wall next to him, and then a second time until he reached the button that’d keep them open.

Gently, he bit into Steve’s lower lip, before he pulled back. He motioned for Steve to walk out the doors, and that bastard pointedly kept his hand around him. It had Tony stumble and groan and whimper all the while until they stood in his penthouse.

In  _ their _ penthouse.

“Had to walk around in that thing  _ all _ day. Sitting down anywhere would’ve been… a real turn-off.” He smirked at Steve, directing them to the bedroom. “That, or time corrupted me.”

**Steve**

"Probably that last one," Steve said on a smirk as they stepped into the bedroom and he finally let go of Tony. He had planned to start working off his outfit, but something in the moment stopped him. 

He stared at Tony in the dim light of the room, in his toga and that trimmed facial hair, the meticulously arranged tousle of his hair. He swallowed down a feeling he wasn't entirely familiar with and his hands, hanging at his side, curled into themselves and then relaxed again. 

"Remember…" he started, hesitating before allowing himself to complete the thought. "Remember when we went to the party that senator friend of yours hosted? You know… back then. At that domus with the large windows?" 

**Tony**

Tony had to blink several times to understand that Steve was actually asking him a question. And expecting an answer. There was little to no blood in his brain, and he took a deep breath to regain some sort of control.

Thinking back, it didn’t take him long to know exactly what Steve was talking about. It was one of his favorite memories of their time together.

“Yeah, I remember,” he said, reaching out to Steve and drawing him in again. Some of the urgency had left him, and he trailed a finger over the chest-plate’s contours. In that moment, Steve looked so much like Stephanus it was hard not to confuse the past with the present.

“You asked me to leave early with you,” Tony said, smiling to himself. “We’d barely been there for half an hour, but I knew you didn’t enjoy it. Couldn’t exactly blame you, those senators loved talking about themselves. We walked around the city for hours, talking about everything under the sun and then…” Tony huffed and pressed a quick kiss against Steve’s lips. “Then what? I can’t seem to remember…”

**Steve**

Rolling his eyes at the obvious lie, Steve let himself smile, tracing Tony's bare shoulder gently. "Then you took me back to your place, and taught me some very  _ interesting _ things…" he said, leaning in to kiss his cheek, then his neck. "I think we stayed up through the night," he whispered next to Tony's ear before nibbling on his earlobe. 

When he pulled back, Steve finally turned to start unfastening his armor. It didn't take as long as he'd feared, now that he knew which bits held what, and Tony helped, too, when he wasn't busy distracting Steve with stray touches. Soon, Steve had set the whole construction on the floor, and stood in only the tunic and his underwear.

**Tony**

Tony felt his heart pounding. If he didn’t have the memories he had, he’d probably find both of their clothing ridiculous, but as it was, he looked at Steve all he could see were those hours, days, spent together in his garden.

Tracing a hand along Steve’s side, Tony smiled. He reached for the tunic’s lower edge and slowly pushed it upwards. Steve raised his arms and a moment later, he stood in front of Tony in nothing but his boxer briefs. “It was the first time we slept together…” Tony mused, recalling exactly when he and Stephanus had tumbled into bed in a series of clumsy kisses and whispered adorations. “I think I blurted that I loved you halfway through. I was… different than I am today. I didn’t care too much what others thought of me.”

**Steve**

"You weren't as different as you think," Steve said, reaching for the soft rope that held Tony's toga around the waist, gently tugging him closer before turning to undo the knot. "Maybe it's that you didn't give yourself as hard a time over things.” He let the material drop to their feet and tugged on the fabric that covered Tony. It gave easily and slid from Tony's body, giving Steve access to all that tempting skin. 

Now naked, with the blue circle of light in his chest, it felt more like Tony,  _ his _ Tony, not Stephanus'. And maybe they were one and the same, but not entirely, not always. "First time we slept together, I was so worried I'd do something wrong, but you were patient with me…" He wrapped his arms around Tony and hugged him, pressing their bodies tightly together. His lips brushed Tony's neck as his hands ran across plains of perfectly smooth skin, then delved down to grab his ass. 

**Tony**

“Well, I knew you were a keeper,” Tony said. He pushed both of his thumbs into Steve’s boxers, and used that grip to slowly—step by step—pull him towards his bed.

“Falling in love with you back then was so easy. I saw you, I talked to you, we clicked.” He grinned when Steve’s legs hit the bed. With one knee on each side of his hips, Tony settled down on top of Steve’s lap. “That we managed to even like each other in this life is the real miracle.”

**Steve**

Running his hands from Tony's shoulders to his ass, Steve admired him. The weight of him, and the absolute certainty with which he moved. "We weren't so bad…" he argued half heartedly. "We would've found each other, eventually." And that much, he was completely sure of. He let his fingers slide lower and pulled Tony tighter against himself. When a gasp escaped him, Steve smiled. "Don't you think?"  

**Tony**

Tony vaguely recalled heated shouting, name calling followed by weeks of tense silence, but maybe Steve was right. Maybe it truly was meant to end up like this, with them together, no matter the rocky start.

“I like to think so,” Tony said, and he didn’t allow the doubt to linger. Instead, both of his hands sneaked their way to Steve’s chest and tenderly pinched his nipples, smiling at the hitched breath that left his lips.

Tony soaked him up with his eyes, and Steve was exhaling deeply, and looking, for all the world, like a man on the brink of losing control.

When Tony pushed against Steve’s chest, the mattress dipped with both of their weight. Slowly, he prowled down the length of Steve’s body. On his way, he mouthed at his nipples, then at his belly button, and eventually at the cloth where Steve’s cock was straining against his boxer briefs. He blew heat into it, before closing his mouth around the head of Steve’s clothed cock for a moment. He didn’t linger, though, settling himself between Steve’s legs and making sure he felt every inch of skin until they were face to face again. “Still remember how we did it that first time?”

**Steve**

Steve's breathing stuttered when Tony mouthed at him, hot and tempting. He knew well enough what Tony could do with his mouth when he applied himself, and his hips jerked slightly to try and get more of that sensation, but Tony moved quickly, and was giving him a lewd stare.

"You know that I do," Steve answered, swallowing thickly with want. He watched Tony's face as he let himself remember. The heat of it was unbearable, and he wanted to get things ahead. He rolled them over, helping Tony lie comfortably on the bed, then leaned in to kiss him deeply, tasting the alcohol from the party. He had his knees on either side of Tony's body, and his weight propped on an elbow, his other hand busying itself with Tony's chest and side. 

"It was an unforgettable night," he admitted, sliding his fingers down Tony's arm, then took Tony's hand in his. "Help me out of these?" he asked, setting their joint hands on the edge of his boxer brief. 

**Tony**

Tony nodded, another quip dying on his lips as they pushed Steve’s underwear down, one side, then the other, then down his thighs. Instinctively, he bit his lip at the sight of Steve’s cock. It was perfectly straight, slightly reddened, and leaking already. It made Tony spread his legs a little more, whimpering when Steve—now fully naked—settled down on him again.

His cock nudged Tony’s, and Tony moaned as he raked his fingers across the smooth span of Steve’s back.

“I remember how you opened me up finger by finger,  _ real _ slow,” he murmured into the air between them. When Steve looked at him, Tony smiled with half-lidded eyes. “You were trembling at first but by the end of it… you had me pinned to the bed, rocking me up and down with the force of your movements.” His own words had Tony trembling, and he pushed up against Steve to get more friction. With the darkened bedroom, and the moonlight falling through the ceiling-high windows, they might as well be back in his domus. And yet he knew that this was  _ Steve _ , and not some long-lost dream.

**Steve**

"God…" Steve murmured, shuddering at Tony's words. He had little control left to speak of, and a part of him worried he may end up coming before they got any further. "You were so sweet, and I was so infatuated… The way you moved…" He rubbed up against Tony, the pace breaking. He fumbled blindly for the bottle of lube he remembered leaving between the sheets, and once he found it, made quick work of the cap. His slick fingers soon found Tony's entrance, teasing with gentle but purposeful motions. 

**Tony**

“I… I came before you even breached me,” Tony panted, as he pulled Steve close with both his arms and legs. The slide of skin against skin felt really good, and he had half a mind to finish off like this.

It took a second for Tony to realize Steve had somehow both found the lube and was also about to shove a finger into him. When he did, Tony’s breath hitched and he pressed down against it. It wasn’t that he hadn’t enjoyed this before, but ever since he and Steve had decided to actually do this, official relationship and regular sex and all, he craved Steve’s touches in a way that was just short of embarrassing.

His fingers dug deeper into Steve’s skin and he groaned when Steve went all the way in.

“And then, then you— _ ugh _ ,” Tony trailed off on a groan and that—jup, that was straight to business, as always, Steve was such a cunning bastard sometimes. “Then you had me come twice more that night. You reduced me to a screaming, whimpering mess. My servants couldn’t even look me in the eye the next day…”

**Steve**

"That why they kept their distance from me?" he teased, smiling cheekily at Tony as he got him ready. "Thought they were just afraid of the Big Bad Centurion…"

He nibbled on Tony's lower lip, then pulled his fingers free. He shifted back a little to arrange them more comfortably. For a moment longer, he was quiet as he adjusted their position, angling himself just so. He then glanced up to Tony, just to make sure he was good to go, finding him staring, eyes dark with want. That was the affirmation Steve needed before he pressed in, slow but unrelenting. A low sound fell from him in the process, and he didn't stop pushing until he was fully inside. Only then did he let himself breathe out, a slow sigh. 

"Have to admit I was really proud of myself," he said, panting the words against Tony's cheek before he kissed him again for good measure, his hands settling firmly on Tony's hips. 

**Tony**

“Proud,” Tony echoed, dizzy with arousal. Steve was obviously determined to kill off Tony’s last remaining brain cells. But for all the world, Tony wasn’t complaining.

He took it happily. And eagerly. And would do anything to have it again in the future.

“That’s a nice way to put it. You were fucking shameless,” he ground out, and took a brief moment to congratulate himself for the bad pun. Then, his back arched off the bed on a strangled cry. Steve had hit home, and now that he’d found the spot, he ruthlessly pushed against it over and over again.

Steve’s hands were holding him firmly in place, while he sped up. It felt as if Tony’s bones had liquified, and he  _ tried _ keeping up with Steve—he always did—but his need to come was now overshadowing everything else. He only managed to rut downwards with clumsy, shaking movements, and tried to recapture Steve whenever he pulled out.

**Steve**

"That's right…" Steve said, and he wasn't even sure if he was answering Tony's words or praising the way he'd let Steve do with him as he pleased. It wasn't a bad deal for either of them, in any case. Steve sped up only a little once he found the right angle, and focused on it.

At one point, when he leaned down to press a kiss to the edge of the arc-reactor, he felt Tony's fingers in his hair, and the other hand clutching his arm. Tell-tale tremors rocked Tony's body, and Steve knew he was close, which urged him to keep going in earnest. He pressed his lips to Tony's collarbone, whispered a breathless "Now, Tony." and was instantly rewarded, when Tony let out a desperate sound and came, curling against him as his body shook with the force of his orgasm. It was beyond what Steve could take. Tony had gotten so incredibly tight around him, and his heat and the scent of sex in the air were intoxicating. Steve didn't even try holding his own climax in check anymore, and followed Tony soon after. 

When he finally collapsed on top of Tony, mindful of his chest, he couldn't even find it in himself to say anything. Words, he felt, would just interfere. 

**Tony**

The way Steve’s lax body surrounded him wholly was worth anything: the taut feeling in his legs, the weight of him as he collapsed, the heavy breaths on his skin, the tremors still seizing his over-sensitive body.

His wandering fingers trailed over Steve’s spine, and his knees were still drawn up and pressed against his waist, keeping him right where he was.

He would’ve liked to say something profound for once. Like how, despite the pain and the cruel fate of their past lives, he felt that he was truly at peace now. That no matter how unfair it was that they hadn’t gotten to spend their lives together how it damn well should have been, he was okay with this second chance, and he would make it count. The words died in his throat, though, and he just tightened his hold around Steve’s middle, keeping him close.

What actually  _ left _ his mouth was a snort, and: “We’re keeping the costumes.”

**Steve**

"Yeah…" Steve said, smiling against his skin. He shifted then, sliding out and turning to lie down beside Tony. He watched him, reached over to trail his fingers along the outline of the reactor in Tony's chest. "We're keeping 'em." 

Leaning over, Steve kissed him, trying to pour all those emotions he didn't know how to put into words, into that intimate contact. The relief at having found him, despite everything, and the absolute acceptance he'd felt in Tony's presence… those were things that had value for him beyond measure. 

When the kiss broke, and Steve scooted over to cuddle Tony in his arms, he felt truly at peace. "Next time,” he said after a beat, “you should wear that purple toga and we’ll do it like the one time at that Venus festival. If you remember it." Antonius had been so drunk, he might as well have forgotten, but it was worth a shot. And from the way Tony’s breath hitched a little, he  _ did _ remember.

Steve smiled at that, pleased. After all, it was one of his fondest memories.


End file.
